


The Price We Pay

by Lyrisvox



Category: Constantine (2005)
Genre: Angels, Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Demonic Possession, Demons, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 91,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrisvox/pseuds/Lyrisvox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take places a little over 2 years after the movie ended. John knew Chas wouldn't show up at his door unless something was really wrong. He also knew there were many, many reasons to keep his distance from the angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sons of Man

**Author's Note:**

> Okay a couple of notes about the story. It is finished. The chapters just need editing so I will be updating at least once monthly if not more frequently. I didn't use archive warnings but I will post warnings at the beginning of each chapter if applicable. As always I love to hear what you guys think and constructive criticism is welcome. I've been working on this baby for a year now so I hope you all enjoy  
> Lots of love,  
> -Lyrisvox

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.” ― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

 

Chapter 1: The Sons of Man

 

 

A subtle charge in the air made John Constantine sit up straighter. A shot of adrenalin poured into his veins and a fine tremor took hold of his body. He set down his glass of scotch, the amber liquid betraying him. A lifetime of dealing with the paranormal had honed his instincts, leaving him sharp even when he drank. He met his dark-eyed reflection in the mirrored backsplash of the bar, before scanning the crowd behind him. They all felt it. The sweaty bodies on the dance floor stood in eerie stillness, ignoring the music’s insistent rhythm. He scoured over the reflection. What happened? Why did it feel like the air had been sucked out of the room?

“John, you should go.”

Constantine jerked his gaze over. Midnite’s waif-like bartender stood in front of him, her dark skin and smoky makeup enhanced the crimson shine flickering from her pupils.

“What’s going on Ezra?” The scotch left his voice deep and scratchy.

She glanced over his shoulder before flashing him a strained smile, nudging his glass toward him with a bony finger.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight, drink up and let me call you a cab.” Her playful chiding did nothing to cut the tension. She reminded him of a deer poised in an open meadow, ready to run at the first hint of danger. Midnite’s entire club vibrated with nervous energy. It made John’s skin crawl. He took her advice and downed the remnants of his drink, savoring the hot surge in his belly. He wanted no part in whatever shitstorm was brewing up here.

"Forget the taxi, I hate them. I’ll walk." He slid off the stool and shrugged on his black trench coat. He wobbled a bit and Ezra clicked her tongue. He had to be careful or she would get all maternal and insist on a cab. He dug in his pocket, laying a couple crumpled twenties on the bartop. A bribe for her silence. She stared at the cash for a moment before swiping it up. He flashed a cheeky grin and Ezra rolled her eyes.

“Get out of here before I change my mind.”

“Night.”

John hurried on his way, wanting to be gone before she reported to her boss. Midnite had charged his staff with looking out for him; his old friend was worried. All his friends were worried. They did their best to hide it, never openly commenting on his slow downward spiral. But he saw the looks, the ones with too much pity for him to stomach.

Big clots of people had clumped together and John weaved his way between them. The buzzing from their shouted conversations called to mind a hive of agitated bees. John caught himself searching the crowd and drug his eyes back to the floor. Mind your own business, he reminded himself. A large group huddled in the hallway leading to the exit, plugging up his escape route. John swore under his breath, pulled his coat tighter, and shouldered his way into the crowd.

He froze when he felt it, the hair raising along the nape of his neck. He was being watched. The weight of the gaze pressed down his back, the power in it making him tingle from head to toe. His breath came faster and a strange heavy heat built low in his belly. He slipped a hand into his pocket, the smooth metal of the cross-engraved brass knuckles settling at the base of his fingers. He spun around and found himself pinned by vibrant amber eyes. They glowed like hot coals and John had the impression of a big body looming in the shadowed recess of the dance floor. The lurid gaze held him fast while his survival instincts screamed at him to flee. His muscles spasmed but he stood rooted to the floor, swallowed by those amber pools.

“Hey asshole, move out of the way.”

John barely heard the shout over the roar of blood in his ears. Rough hands shoved him hard and he staggered, managing to keep himself from smashing into the floor. His mind reeled. What the hell just happened? He was drunk but the power had been real, it clung to his skin in a slick film. A congested heat remained between his legs and he realized with a start he was hard. He shook himself before peering back across the dance floor. The recess stood empty. He frowned and took a step back towards the bar when a hand shot out, twisting into the front of his shirt.

“Well, if it isn’t John Constantine. You’re looking a bit worse for wear exorcist.” The demon hauled him in close. Booze-laced breath fanned over John’s face.

Constantine struck like a viper. The sallow skin covering the demon’s cheek gave way beneath the brass knuckles and John smirked. A pained howl tore out of the demon and he flung John away.

Constantine steadied himself. “You were saying?”

His blood was up, the strange excitement from before making him feel wired. A heady surge of satisfaction spread through him while he watched the demon cradle the peeling flesh of his face. Behind his fingers John glimpsed yellowed teeth and glistening wet brown tissue.

“Is that all you’ve got?” John taunted. The demon growled, his eyes darting over the crowd springing up around them. Hands clenched into fists and John smiled, ready to deport him right here. Give them all a good show.

A hot, insistent pressure raked over the right side of John’s body, making his nipples tighten. His watcher was back. He ignored it, keeping his attention focused on the more immediate problem. The demon stilled for a moment, eyes rolling back into his skull, revealing bloodshot sclera. A low-level hum filled John’s ears, creating pressure which bordered on pain. He wanted to touch himself. The urge came on so fast his hand tugged the clasp on his trousers before he could stop it. He checked himself savagely. His opponent had no such qualms and stood palming his crotch for the whole club to see. John drew back in revulsion.

The demon shivered, his hand still moving, a smug grin twisted his already distorted features. “You have worse things to worry about than me tonight, mate.”

The strobe lights started up, casting a skeletal mask over the demon’s face. John popped his ears, desperate to relieve the pressure. The humming grew louder and John gave the crowd a leery look. They pressed close together, hands already stroking and pawing any available skin and John realized there was a good chance he would be watching an orgy if he hung around any longer. John considered himself kinky, but there were limits. He took off, barreling through the crowd.

“Where you going pretty boy?” The demon called.

Several reached for him but he shook off their hands. The oppressive gaze lingered over him, as physical as a touch, and he fought to keep himself from seeking out those eyes again. His weapon sat snug against his knuckles and he clenched his fist tighter. Wet heat hung in the air, intensified by the glowing red lights in the hall. Sweat beaded on his nose and down his chest. He moved fast, wanting cool open air filling his lungs instead of this swampy cloud. When he got to the stairs he took them two at a time, blurring the line of people waiting to get in. He was still erect, his entire body lit up with arousal.

Am I being followed?

Keep walking, he told himself, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

Outside the entrance the line lost its shape, people spilling over the sidewalk. The November air chilled at night even in Los Angeles and Constantine was grateful for his coat. John edged along the building until he felt he had some room to breathe. He sagged against the brick wall, running his fingers through his damp black hair. To his right came the shrill screech of brakes as a cab pulled up against the curb. A boisterous group clambered out of the back seat, they were angels. The soft rustle of their feathers struck a chord and John looked up. His eyes sought the driver before he could stop himself. Soft brown curls peeked out from beneath a tan hat. He blinked, breath frozen in his chest for a second before the image shifted, brown curls melting away to reveal a long black ponytail in it’s place. The cab pulled away and John watched it go, straining until the taillights disappeared around the corner. Of course it wasn’t Chas, the angel avoided all of his usual haunts. It was part of their unspoken deal. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. The weirdness in the club had messed with brain.

John stood still, his fingers tracing over the rough brick. The adrenalin had burnt away most of his hard earned buzz but a little soupy warmth remained. The strange sexual excitement drained away bit by bit. It was time to go home. His feet carried him like a sleepwalker over the well worn path between his apartment and Midnite’s. His mind free to wander in places he wished it wouldn't go.

It had been over two years since the last time he’d spoken to Chas, but not a second of it had faded. The memories choked him, the ones he drank to forget.

Blood dripping from Chas’s nose while he took his last breath.

His coffin being lowered into a cold black maw.

John bit down on the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would distract him. Instead the flood pressed on, cutting him up inside, like swallowing a fistful of exacto blades. Chas hadn’t waited long after his return before he sought out John, expecting to pick up where they left off. John had popped his hopes like a balloon. He’d practically seen Chas’s enthusiasm deflate when he’d said his mind was made up, their partnership was over. Chas had argued, but John hadn’t budged and Chas had snapped in anger.

“Fine John, if that’s the way you want it.”

Those brittle words were the last spoken between them. The wounded look on Chas’s face forever branded in his mind.

The air was wet, a heavy mist fell from thick gray clouds, collecting in drops on his coat. The downpour was coming and John’s feet sped up on instinct to avoid being soaked. His fingers ached, a line of bruising already appearing where metal impacted against flesh. Alcohol and guilt churned his insides into an acidic soup. How many times have I gone over this? He’d made the right decision, Chas was safer away from him. If it weren’t for him the kid would still be alive, and his fascination with demonology would have stayed safely in the pages of his books. Instead Chas had paid the ultimate price.

Having Chas near him put John face to face with the specter of his failure and he was too weak to bear it. He wasn’t clean enough, he would drag Chas down into the mire. The thought of hurting him again made John sick. To prove a point, John’s mind brought up a flash of Chas pressed against his door, his tongue forcing its way between Chas’s wet lips, and he swore violently. He had many, many reasons for keeping his distance from Chas.

John hunched in on himself. The truth was he hadn’t even made it to forty before he’d burned out. Fighting the good fight meant losing a little more of himself in each battle and he had no more left to give. He’d stopped Mammon, sacrificed and earned his way back into heaven, saved countless lives. Enough was enough.

The mist became rain, the rich petrichor swirling in John’s nostrils. Ahead the door of the bowling alley spilled blue light out onto the sidewalk. They were open late on Saturdays for blacklight bowling and John could hear the rumbling collisions between balls and pins when he approached the door. He grabbed the slick door handle when it hit him again, lust and heat scorched down his back, making his clothes feel tight and constricting. He stood still, the cold wet metal numbing his fingers. The apartment wards were strong, he would be safe inside but having some fiend stalk him back into his home turf galled him. Time to let this mouth-breather know his attention was unwanted.

“You know, stalking isn’t a good way to make friends.”

John turned around, his voice echoed down the street. A woman sitting at the bus stop across the road gave him a sharp look and muttered under her breath. His eyes flitted over countless dark crevices expecting to meet fiery amber in the dark. He saw nothing but his body told another story. The burning, insistent power made him want to squirm. His pulse pounded in his groin and thighs.

The minutes ticked by in stalemate, neither moving, neither retreating. John snorted, turning away and yanking the door open. He stopped in the doorway, taking one last glance behind him when he heard it. A sinful laugh floated through the night air, surrounding him with its dark promise. His whole body shivered.

“You let me know when you want to do more than stare,” he called.

He scuttled inside, headed straight for the stairs. The bowling alley felt different ever since Beeman died. His wet shoes squelched with every step leaving puddles in his wake. He climbed the stairs slowly. Living in a building without an elevator sucked. When he reached his floor he started to feel calm again. He slid the brass knuckles off his fingers and back into the front pocket of his trousers.

Constantine was almost to his door before he realized a man was leaning against the wall outside his apartment. Chas still dressed the same, the dorky kangol hat covering his curls, baggy army green coat, well worn jeans, and black Chuck Taylors. All the same except the wings. They were beautiful though, dove gray feathers drinking in the muted light. John stopped and blinked several times. Is this real, he wondered, gawking at his unexpected visitor. He fought the urge to pinch himself.

“I need to talk to you.” Chas’s voice was abrupt, startling him. John started for the door, giving himself a mental slap. Fingers fumbled in his pocket for the key, feeling the angel’s eyes bore into him, daring John to turn him away.

“I assumed that was why you came.” He slid his key in, unlocked the door and shoved it open. He motioned the angel inside, feeling the heat from Chas’s body when he brushed past him. It made his heart race. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough for this.


	2. The Righteous Still do Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas and John talk but their past gets in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks here is chapter 2. No specific warnings for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 2: The Righteous Still do Right

 

 

Chas strode into the familiar kitchen. The faint smell of cigarettes still permeated the room and rivulets of nicotine sweat stained the dingy walls. His heart gave a painful spasm. What had he expected to feel when he saw John again? Keep it together, he admonished himself, do what you came here to do. He went straight for the window and plopped down on the jutting wooden sill. His legs rested against the jugs of holy water John kept lined up against the exterior walls. Constantine remained vigilant as always. He took a steadying breath, focused on keeping his exterior calm. Inside he was anything but.

The door closed and Chas looked over at John. He stood in the entryway, dripping water all over his floor. John’s body telegraphed his discomfort like a giant neon billboard. Their eyes met for a brief second before John looked away.

“Can I, uh, get you a drink?” John said, breaking the awkward silence while he slid off his wet coat and hung it on the coat hook beside him.

“No, thank you.”

John stepped into the kitchen and Chas’s whole face got hot. Without his coat Chas saw the white shirt John wore had soaked through. The damp fabric clung to John’s skin, leaving his nipples flushed and prominent. Chas’s mouth went dry and he turned away, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Umm, John.”

“What?”

Chas’s tongue cemented itself to the roof of his mouth and he gestured at John’s body to get his point across. John glanced down at himself and his eyes widened. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be right back.”

Chas nodded. John swept past him into his bedroom. A zipper’s soft buzz reached him and Chas grit his teeth against the image of John stripping off his clothes mere feet from him.

John changed fast, wearing a plain black t-shirt and pants when he came back into the kitchen. He crossed the room and perched himself on the edge of the table facing Chas, his fingers gripped the wood with enough force to turn his knuckles white. Chas’s eyes devoured John, who kept his own gaze fixed on the wall above Chas’s head. It had been so long since they’d been face to face and Chas drank up every bit of the man across from him. He looks tired, Chas thought, watching as John’s brows drew together and a faint pink stain appeared on his cheeks.

“John, I need your help,” Chas said, licking his lips before he plunged on. “The demons have done something.”

“What do you mean ‘done something’?” Constantine arched one eyebrow up towards his hairline.

“They’ve made a move to take power. One of them attacked me out of nowhere yesterday, and I don’t mean name calling and threats: he shoved me up against my cab and choked me. He told me soon they would be lynching feathered freaks like me in the streets.” Chas rubbed his neck, remembering the vitriolic hatred in the demon’s face.

“I think you’re overreacting,” John started but Chas interrupted him, his anger flaring like a bright dart.

“The other angels said the same thing.” Chas flung his hands in the air. “God, sometimes I think they’d keep their heads buried even if a demon army set up camp outside their door. Uriel told me the demons respect the Balance.” He let out a bitter laugh. “You and I know when it serves their ends neither side respects it.”

The mention of their past hung in the air like smoke after an explosion. Chas let his eyes fill with a silent accusation. John flinched and dragged his gaze down to his lap. Now is not the time for this, Chas reminded himself, swallowing the words he wanted to say, used to the sour taste it left in his mouth.

John put his head in his hands, “What do you think I can do?”

“People will talk to you, people who won’t talk to me because of what I am. Do some digging, see what you can find out.”

“You’ve got the wrong guy, Chas.” John said.

Chas shot off the windowsill, moving into John’s space. The feathers bristled over his wings. “Don’t do this. I’ve played by your rules up until now.” Chas’s brows drew together. Nasty rumours had reached him now and then, claiming John had become a washed up drunk who’d saved his own soul and cashed his chips. He had ignored them. The John Constantine he knew was a fighter, but the man in front of him looked more like a stranger. “Constantine, do you think I would come to you if I thought this was pointless demon posturing? Something is wrong, I can feel it.” He drew in a breath and threw all his cards on the table. “Do this one favor for me and I’ll be out of your life forever.”

John’s face paled and for the first time he really looked at Chas. Tension sparked between them, making Chas’s heart beat faster. John’s hands twitched and Chas got the feeling John wanted to grab him. His body swayed forward on its own. If John touched him would it be rough, or passionate? One could quickly turn into the other between them. It had happened before.

Three years ago John had gone out drinking with an old friend and ended up swimming in scotch by the end of the night. A three AM phone call and one strong cup of coffee later Chas had arrived to pick him up. John had been a mess and Chas heaved a disappointed sigh.

“Hello beautiful.” John slurred, grabbing Chas’s coat and pulling him close.

Chas pried Constantine’s hands off him. “You smell like you bathed in alcohol. Let’s get you home.”

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for you to say those words to me.”

Chas shot John a hard look but John’s drooping bloodshot eyes made him brush the statement aside. He managed to get Constantine into his cab without getting puked on which he considered a victory. They were more than half way to John’s building when Chas caught John staring at him.

“What?” Chas asked.

“When the hell did you start looking like that?”

“You mean tired? You may not believe this, John, but I don’t wait up every night hoping to get a drunken phone call from you.”

“Bullshit.” John gave a low laugh and Chas stiffened at the implication. “No, I mean when did you start looking so grown up?”

Chas’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced over. The intensity of John’s attention made a hot flush bloom over Chas’s chest and neck. He turned back to the road but his pulse pounded in his ears. The bowling alley came into view and Chas parked right outside the door. He hauled John out of the car, considering his duty fulfilled, however John took one step and practically nosedived into the cement.

“Jesus John, I thought you could handle yourself better than this,” Chas scolded, hauling Constantine back to his feet before sliding an arm tight around his waist to keep him upright. Shuffling along they managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, arriving at John’s door.

“Where are your keys?” Chas asked

“Front pocket,” John replied but he made no move to retrieve them. Chas clenched his teeth together and propped John against the door so he could search his pockets. Constantine’s breath puffed against his neck and Chas tried to ignore his body’s sudden awareness of John. He found the keys, unlocked the door and heaved John into his apartment.

“Alright, let’s get you undressed and into bed.”

John swayed a bit but managed to stand and Chas divested him of his coat, the thick material pooling around their feet. John watched every move he made and Chas’s hands trembled when he reached for the button at John’s collar. A low growl raised the hair along his body a millisecond before he found himself slammed back into the door, his head hitting the wood with a nasty crack.

“What the hell, John?”

His answer never came, instead Constantine devoured his mouth like a hungry wolf. Chas gasped and John pressed his advantage, plunging his tongue in, filling Chas’s mouth with a hot rush of scotch. He panicked, his hands pushing at John’s shoulders but Constantine gripped him even tighter. John ground his rigid sex into him and stars exploded in Chas’s head. No longer were his hands pushing John away, now he pulled him closer, returning his fierce kiss. A switch had been flipped inside him. Of course he wanted John, the absolute truth of it sank down into the marrow of his bones. When they broke apart for air he spoke again.

“Are you sure about this?”

His words sent a tremor through John’s body and he jerked away from Chas, quick and painful. Chas moved to follow until he caught sight of the tortured look on John’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said. Why did Constantine look like he’d committed a crime?

“This never happened. Get out of here Chas.” John turned away, taking short, measured steps until he reached the bathroom. He disappeared inside and Chas jumped when he slammed the door. A faint click told him Constantine had locked him out and he stood there stunned, his body still burning everywhere they had touched. John had to be joking right? Wounded pride hit him like an arrow and he marched over to the door, banging his fist against it.

“John open the door. You have to talk to me!” He shouted. But stubborn till the end, John had never spoken of it again.

 

Chas wondered if the same memory had come over John too because he lept off the table, bolting for his sink, bracing himself against the porcelain. Chas went after him. He reached for Constantine’s arm, frowning when John flinched away before he could touch him.

“John?”

Constantine turned back towards him, a garish red smear at the corner of his mouth.

“You're bleeding.” Chas reached up, and this time John allowed it. He brushed his thumb against the corner of John’s mouth.

John caught his hand, pulling it away. “Things are different now. That part of my life is done. Whatever this is, I’m staying out of it.”

“How can you say that?”

“I did my part. I saved the whole goddamn world.”

“That’s it then? You punched your savior ticket and now you're going to sit on your laurels?” Chas tugged his hand away, clenching his jaw. Constantine’s refusal shredded the remains of his composure. Chas had swallowed a lot of bullshit from John in the past but not this time.

“You’re a coward. I wanted to believe in you, but it’s the truth.” Chas said, disgust in his voice.

“What? Pouting because you're not getting your way? Quit acting like an idealistic child.” John’s dark brows drew together and he notched his chin higher.

“I’d rather be an idealistic child than a drunk!” Chas hollered back “When was the last time you were sober for an entire day? It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? Well go ahead, keep drowning yourself. It might help you forget the people who need you, it might even help you forget about your pain, but you and I know the truth. You drink because you’re afraid and it’ll keep eating away at you until you face it.” His eyes shot daggers and his nostrils flared. John stared back, his mouth flat and pinched.

“I want you to go.” John said.

Without waiting for a response Constantine walked across the room, jerking the door open with enough force to make the hinges squeal. Chas watched him in open mouthed fury. A million biting retorts clawed up his throat and he bit down on his tongue to keep himself silent. He had one last hail mary left. He walked towards the door, pausing beside John, noting how Constantine’s jaw tightened.

“I know you’re a good man,” Chas said, a dull knife sliding through his chest when John refused to meet his eyes, “I’ll be waiting John, find me when you come to your senses.” Chas laid his hand on John’s shoulder for a second before he walked out into the hall. He smiled when the door slammed behind him. Tonight may not have gone his way but he’d succeeded in getting under John’s skin.

He turned and looked back at the peeling green door. When he’d been John’s apprentice he’d memorized the protective spells etched deep into the wooden doorframe. On the other side of the peeling wood he could hear John’s heart pounding. One of the perks of being an angel. The urge to break down the door and drag John out of his darkness almost overwhelmed him. If Chas could show him all the people who cared about him, maybe John would stop destroying himself.

If I could show him how much I care about him. There’s still a chance, he told himself while he headed down the hall. When he hit the stairs he paused, making sure he was alone before heading up. A dark green maintenance door blocked his way at the top but his former life had had its perks and Chas picked the lock with ease. He stepped out into a driving rain, his shoes slipping on the gravel roof. Los Angeles looked beautiful, lit up all around him. He spread his wings, shaking the water off his feathers before he launched into air.

 

~@~

 

John rolled over and slit his eyes open, peeking at his alarm clock. The neon blue numbers delivered the bad news. Six AM. He grabbed his pillow, pressing it over his face, hating the silvery dawn light creeping in around the shuttered windows. After Chas left he’d finished off his last bottle of scotch, shed his clothes and crawled into bed, praying the alcohol would blot out this entire hellish night.

_The demons have done something_

John hated to admit it but he thought so too. Even now the rush of lust remained in his mind. Along with dangerous amber eyes.

_Constantine, do you think I would come to you if I thought this was pointless demon posturing? Something is wrong, I can feel it._

John let out a frustrated groan into his pillow. Damn Chas!

_You’re a coward._

Constantine shook his head hard, hoping to dislodge Chas’s insistent voice from inside his skull. A sharp burst of pain behind his eyes convinced him not to try again.

_I’d rather be an idealistic child than a drunk!_

John considered grabbing the stapler from his desk and stapling his eyelids shut. Was it too much to ask for a few hours of blissful oblivion?

_You drink because you’re afraid and it’ll keep eating away at you until you face it._

He sat up, huffing out a resigned sigh. His vision swam for a second before settling into the familiar pattern of his room. Why can’t I let this go? Plenty of people in his life had said shitty stuff about him. He’d always shrugged it off before. What made this different? It’s because you know he’s right, his conscience taunted.

John scrubbed his hands over his face and heaved himself off the bed. Without his blanket cocoon the cold air in the apartment raised goosebumps along his naked body. He shuffled into the bathroom, leaning his arm against the slick tile wall over the toilet while he pissed. When he finished he stepped over to the sink, turning on the cold water, splashing it over his face and neck. He gasped and shivered but it made him more alert.

_I know you’re a good man._

After all he had done to disillusion him, Chas still had faith. John had seen it in his eyes. Constantine stared at his own pale, hollow-eyed face in the mirror. He looked like shit, which matched how he felt these days. Am I still a good man? Was I ever? He didn’t have the answers to those questions but Chas believed in him. A long-dormant part of him stirred, unfurling, filling the empty space inside him with a strange fervor.

_I’ll be waiting John, find me when you come to your senses._

He turned around and went to the tub, cranking the handle till scalding hot water sprayed from the head. He smelled like booze and sweat. He stepped under the hot spray, promising himself Chas would never find out his words had burrowed inside him and lit a fire. Constantine sighed and grabbed the soap. He was such a sucker.


	3. Chapter 3: His Servant John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds a rat and Chas has a demonic encounter of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. Here is Chapter 3. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: His Servant John

 

 

Constantine rubbed his bruised knuckles. Damn, the last guy sure had a hard face. It had taken him the better part of the morning but he’d sniffed out a rat. Now he sat huddled in the entry of an abandoned storefront. It had been a Botánica, the flaking blue paint on the windows advertising herbs, candles, and rosary beads. These places never lasted long in this neighborhood. The cracked glass window next to him stood at the perfect angle, reflecting the alley across the street and the large grey door set towards the back. He waited, eyes fixed on the door.

The sun moved high overhead in the cloudless sky. An unseasonable, baking heat made drops of sweat roll down his spine. The cloying smell of stale urine hovered in the air. John slouched down further, blending in with the scenery as a drunk sleeping off his latest binge. By one o’clock he’d almost convinced himself to go over there and bust down doors until he found his rat. The crunch of footsteps on broken glass interrupted his thoughts and he looked up. John’s lips parted in a grin.

“Balthazar you vain-ass prick.” He muttered under his breath. The mighty had fallen though. The demon’s sneeringly handsome face remained untouched, but the baggy clothes and baseball cap were a far cry from flashy tailored suits. John figured even Balthazar could be practical to avoid notice. The demon cast a furtive look around, hovering at the mouth of the alley. He made a sharp right and John watched him hurry down the street. Constantine stood, flexing to work the pins and needles out of his legs. Once Balthazar had a fair lead, John followed. He stayed on the opposite side of the street but kept the demon in his sights.

John trailed Balthazar for several blocks before an opportunity presented itself. A block ahead of the demon a stairwell lead down below the street, a nightclub’s neon sign hung on the red brick building. John darted across the street, quickening his pace, no longer worried about staying hidden. He closed the gap, almost on top of Balthazar before the demon sensed him. Balthazar whirled around, eyes widening when they met John’s. Constantine pulled a long coil of rope out of the waistband of his pants.

“Hello Balthazar.”

The demon lashed out. Pain sparked along John’s jaw and a gush of coppery blood filled his mouth as Balthazar punched him and ran.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He grunted, flinging a loop of rope around the demon’s neck. A hiss of pain erupted from Balthazar, the noose choking him. The demon staggered, skin popping and smoking. The rope dragged across his palms as Balthazar fought to free himself but John held tight, using his makeshift leash to drag him down the steps to the cement landing below.

“I anointed the rope with Holy Oil, it’s my personal lasso of truth. Hurts like a bitch right?” He jerked down hard on the rope, forcing the demon to his knees. Balthazar lunged and John kicked him under the ribs. “I have some questions, Balthazar.”

“You can go fuck yourself.” The demon spat at him.

“Keep it up and I’ll truss you up like a steer and leave you here. How much of you do you think will be burned away before someone finds you?”

“Oh but it feels so good.” Balthazar moaned in mock ecstasy. The rope in John’s hand trembled, betraying the deep tremor under the demon’s words. Sulfur poured into the air and John wrinkled his nose. Their eyes met and held, measuring each other.

“I figured you for a sadist rather than a masochist.”

“I’m a little bit of everything.”

John spat out a clot of blood and chuckled under his breath. “When’d you get back Balthazar?”

The demon grinned flashing perfect pearl teeth. John lashed the free end of the rope across Balthazar’s pretty face, leaving a blistering red welt on his cheek.

“I’ve been here for months, right under your nose.” Balthazar said. “Though from what I hear about your drinking it seems like you can’t find your own dick these days.”

John straightened, every muscle drawing tight. So the little worm wanted to play dirty?

“I bet you were dying to get out of Hell. Lucifer wasn’t too happy when he learned you helped Gabriel and Mammon. What does the Old Serpent do to demons who disobey him?” Balthazar paled and John pushed harder. “You must have doled out some sweet favors to get back here.” John made a lewd motion with his hand and tongue.

He struck a nerve. Balthazar lunged forward snapping his teeth like a mad dog. John moved quickly, yanking a large vial of holy water from his pants pocket and smashing it against his chest, sending glass and water cascading down the front of him.

“No touching.” John tsk tsked, forcing Balthazar back to his knees. The water dripped onto the demon, filling the air with a sizzle like frying bacon. “I wonder what Lucifer would do if I told him you’d wriggled out of his grasp?”

Balthazar went still. The whites of his eyes showed and a muscle jumped in his jaw, revealing the fear hidden under his bravado. They stood in tense silence, John watching Balthazar struggle with his fear. For a moment John thought the demon would attack him, a violent hatred contorted his face but Balthazar mastered it and bowed his head.

“What do you want to know?” Balthazar’s dark voice and sharp eyes promised retribution. John made a note to keep a very close eye on the demon from now on.

“Good boy.” John grasped Balthazar’s chin with a wet hand, tilting the demon’s face up toward him. He squeezed hard as the tissue under his fingers corroded. “Something bad came into Midnite’s last night, I felt it, I saw it, and I think the demons are behind it. So spill.”

Balthazar’s laughter grated along John’s nerves. One quick jerk on the rope would cut off the demon’s air supply but he wanted his answer more.

“Oh Johnny boy, you do like biting off more than you can chew. This time however you should look closer to home for your answer.”

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“Please, even I have standards.” Balthazar reached up, pushing his sweat soaked hair back from his face. “Humans, so eager to point the finger at others.”

“You’re saying a human is responsible?”

The red glow from Balthazar’s eyes was positively gleeful. “You’re shocked?”

He’s jerking me around, John thought. Humans were capable of wielding great power but what he’d felt at Midnite’s came from a darker, more primal source.

“Balthazar you lying piece of shit.” Constantine snagged a handful of the demon’s greasy hair, snapping him forward, bashing knee and nose together with a sickening crunch. Balthazar slumped to the ground, his breath coming out as a wet gurgle. John lifted his leg, slamming it down against the half breed’s spine. Constantine crouched on top of Balthazar, pulling the rope tight, forcing his head back at an unnatural angle. He grabbed the demon’s wrists, clamping them together behind his back. Using the free end of rope he bound wrists to neck, leaving Balthazar pulled taut, muscles straining to keep the rope from biting too deep. Thick fluid oozed from underneath the rope at his neck and wrists. John smirked, his skills in rope bondage served him well.

“Damn you.” Balthazar gasped. He flopped like a fish out of water, letting out a pitiful moan. “Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to heal after this?”

“I saw the thing at Midnite’s last night. You're never going to convince me it was a human. You want to try again?”

“You said demons were behind it and I told you the truth. None of us would risk Lucifer’s wrath by summoning a full demon here. Not after word spread of His punishments.”

“A human summoned a full demon? Why?” John’s brain stuttered.

“I don’t know! How many times do I have to tell you I wasn’t involved. His arrival surprised us all.”

Constantine scrubbed a hand over his face. John looked down into Balthazar’s face. From the many rents in his skin the sticky yellowish flesh of his true form peeked out. His eyes were wide and dilated, red light flashing at him from inside. His gut told him to believe Balthazar this time. The knowledge settled in his chest like a stone.

“You said ‘his arrival’. Who is he?”

“Piss off. I’m done being your canary.” Balthazar huffed. He cracked a gruesome smile. “If you want to know so bad, track him down and ask him yourself.” John made a move toward the rope but Balthazar started thrashing, his whole body a violent flurry as he tried to find a weakness in his bonds. When they held tight he turned on John. “I told you what you wanted, now get this fucking rope off of me.”

John could tell if he pushed harder the demon would snap. It would be dangerous to turn him loose but he wasn’t sure his rat had outlived his usefulness. He gave a sharp tug on the rope between Balthazar’s neck and hands, starling him. Spit frothed at the corners of Balthazar’s mouth, his whole body heaving with each breath.

“Quit being an ass unless you want to stay here and take your chances.” John began loosening the knot at his wrists. The demon scowled at him out of the corner of his eye. The moment his hands were free Balthazar scrambled away, tearing at the noose around his neck, smoke rising from his fingers.

John stood, watching him at his futile task. After several minutes of muttered curses he grabbed the dangling end of the rope, tugging Balthazar toward him. “Let me do it.” The hair raised over John’s body in warning as an all-encompassing hatred wafted off the demon again. Balthazar looked wretched but an injured animal is the most unpredictable. He worked until he got enough slack to pull the rope over Balthazar’s head when the demon ducked under and launched at him, charred hands closing around his throat. Driving them down hard into the unforgiving cement.

“You ever come near me again and I’ll cut you up and eat you,” Balthazar said, his nose brushing John’s while the hands on his throat squeezed tighter and tighter. Then with a swift, vicious thrust he cracked his skull against John’s. Lightning sparked behind his eyes and John groaned, fighting down the bile rushing up his throat. Balthazar lept up and John slit his eyes open in time to catch him stumbling up the stairs, leaving a cloud of ash and sulfur in his wake.

“You take care now.” John coughed after him. He glanced down at himself, clumps of charred flesh stuck to his wet clothes. He grimaced, he had to start carrying a change of clothes with him. He lay there feeling the exhaustion he’d been fighting seep into every muscle in his body. The adrenalin he’d been running on had turned to fumes and he contemplated letting unconsciousness take him right then and there. He had to tell Chas, an annoying voice insisted inside his head. He pouted, expending a herculean amount of effort to get back on his feet. The rope caught his eye, lying like a coiled snake where Balthazar had dropped it. He picked it up and shoved it into the waistband of his pants. His hands shook and he stuffed them into his coat pockets, trying to ignore it.

He would do the right thing and talk to Chas, but first he had to get some sleep. He trudged up the stairs, his face already starting to swell from the hits he’d taken. At the top of the stairs he remembered he’d drank the last of his scotch last night. He’d have to stop at the liquor store on the way home.

 

*@*

 

A middle aged balding man hailed him from the curb and Chas pulled up to let him in. He’d been brooding about John all morning but the moment the man opened his door and slid into the back seat a dark presence invaded his space and he shot the man a sharp look in his rear view mirror. He looked like a regular human but his presence felt wrong. Tainted somehow.

“Where to?” he asked. The man looked up, tired lines etched deep into the skin around his mouth and eyes. The sharp burn of cologne wrapped around him but a warm metallic scent lurked underneath. Their eyes met in the mirror and for a second the man’s stormy blue orbs flickered to solid black. Chas blinked but the vision disappeared as quick as it had come. Is he possessed, Chas wondered.

“Take me to the pier.”

Chas’s brows drew together, a sick sensation bubbling in his gut. He pulled out into traffic heading toward Santa Monica Boulevard. His passenger sat back and stared out the window in silence. His hands moved restlessly though, tugging his clothes and rubbing over his skin. Chas tried to make conversation.

“Meeting your family down at the pier?” he asked, spying an old gold wedding band on the man’s left hand. The man answered with a noncommittal shrug and they lapsed back into silence. Darkness hovered in the air, a miasma spreading with each of the man’s putrid breaths. It clogged Chas’s mouth like an old tissue. The pier grew closer and closer, sounding alarms inside his head. He had an obligation to intervene before the evil inside his passenger could hurt anyone else. He got off the freeway at the next exit. Driving on the side streets would give him more time to think.

“Where are you going?” The man barked, the harsh tone of his voice startled Chas.

“There’s an accident up ahead on the freeway.” He lied hoping the man hadn’t been paying attention. “I’ll take another route.”

They drove through the honeycomb of stores and restaurants, winding their way to the pier. A strange chuffing noise came from the back and he saw the man had his face pressed to the window, his nose snubbed tight against the glass. He stared at the people outside, his eyes combing over them like they were a five course gourmet dinner.

The streets were familiar to Chas and he drove for an out of the way lot, hoping it would be deserted. When it came into view the only other car was a rusted-out Honda with a parking boot on the left front wheel. Chas pulled in and killed the engine.

“This is about as close as I can get you. The pier is about two blocks down but parking there is always a zoo.” The man peeled himself back from the window, the vacant expression on his face disturbed Chas. “Well, it’ll be fifty, sir.”

The man fished out his wallet. Chas took his shot. He locked the doors and unbuckled his seatbelt. When the lock clicked the man gave him a strange look, his hand shooting to the door handle. Chas whispered a silent thanks for the child locks on his car. A rush of sweat soaked through the back of his shirt as the man swiveled his head in a decidedly inhuman manner.

“Now why would you do that?”

“Sir, I think you’re unwell. Why don’t you let me help you?”

“You sound like my wife. She didn’t understand either. Only He understands, He’s opened my eyes and now I’m finally free.”

“Who?” Chas asked.

“The Master.” the man replied as if the answer should have been obvious. “He speaks to me. He understands me.” With those words his eyes went black again, his skin tightening into a bestial mask.

Chas drew on his power, a soft white light surrounding him. “Tell me his name.”

“You don’t command me, He has set me free from your tyranny. You can’t control my mind or my body.” The man lunged at him and the second they touched Chas found his mind flooded with graphic sexual images. What is inside this man? He’d never seen a possession like this before. He overpowered his attacker, flinging him back into the seat. “You see?” the man asked, “He has promised to fulfill all my desires.”

The man had sunk too deep for mere words to reach him. Chas needed to expel the darkness inside him. He infused his voice with power “Let him go.”

“He’s mine.” The man growled spit flying from his lips. His voice was different, harsher, sharper, more violent. Had the Master taken over?

“Not for long,” Chas replied diving into the back seat. They struggled, the man hissed at him and dug sharp stubby nails into his skin. In the scuffle Chas managed to pin the man down, using his weight to stop the man from hurting himself. The man pushed his insistent erection into Chas’s thigh. Chas wanted to jerk back but he risked losing his advantage if he did so he pushed his discomfort from his mind. The sooner he finished this, the better.

He leaned in close, speaking right against the man’s ear. “In the name of the Holy Father, I command you to release this man.” The warmth of his power flowed over them and the man seized up. Chas held on tight, exerting more and more of his strength. Inside the man the darkness began to writhe, shaking his whole body with its extinction burst. The blackness over his eyes began to flicker and Chas saw stark fear staring back at him. Without warning the evil retreated and the man deflated, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Chas waited a long time before he released his hold. The darkness seemed to have fled, leaving no trace, but Chas had the sense he’d gotten off easy. Without the taint hovering over them the air itself felt lighter. The man remained silent but his breathing had returned to normal and his eyes were open and clear.

“Sir, can you hear me?” No answer. Chas strapped him in and clambered back into the front. He had to get this man to the hospital but then he had every intention of finding Uriel and flinging this encounter in front of his face.

“I’d like to hear him explain this away,” Chas muttered, and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal.


	4. The Poison of Asps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar reports to the Master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Chapter 4 where we finally get to meet our mysterious Master face to face. There is a dubious consent warning for this chapter. I hope you all are enjoying the story and as always I love to hear from you.

Chapter 4: The Poison of Asps

 

 

The smell caught the Master’s attention. A thick, sharp burst of sulfur up his nostrils and down his throat, reminding him of home. He sat up straighter on his throne. The woman sucking feverishly between his legs took no notice, her mind on more important things. His ears picked up ragged, gasping breaths and an odd shuffling cadence to the steps as his visitor approached. He waited, eyes fixed down at the mouth of the tunnel where the wall of darkness crowded against the light of his makeshift kingdom. Balthazar stepped into the light. The Master said nothing, watching while his servant made his slow and painful ascent onto the platform. Balthazar stood, using one of the cement pillars for support while he waited to be acknowledged. The Master surveyed the damage his servant had sustained. Constantine had been more ruthless than he’d anticipated. Good. He grabbed a chunk of long blond hair, pulling his little distraction away from his cock. A far more delicious opportunity had presented itself.

“Leave us.” She looked over her shoulder and her eyes narrowed for a split second, but she did as he commanded. Once the echo of her footfalls faded away, the Master leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He left himself exposed, delighting in how nervous it made Balthazar.

“Well?” He demanded, making his servant jump

“He came, just as you said he would.” Balthazar flicked his tongue over his shredded lips.

“And?”

“And I gave him enough to stoke the fire. Trust me, John won’t be able to let this go.” Balthazar shuddered, a grimace of pain tightening his face.

The Master regarded the demon in front of him. He looked pathetic: burnt, shaking, and oozing fluids. Balthazar had his uses though, and he intended to use him. He crooked a finger, motioning his servant to him. “Come here.”

Balthazar hesitated, a quick flare of fear in his glassy eyes. The Master sighed. “You came to me, remember?”

Balthazar started forward, inching his way closer. The Master gave a low growl. “I am not a patient creature.”

It worked, Balthazar tripped over his own sluggish feet till he reached him. He arched a brow. A soft whine escaped Balthazar, his wounded body rebelling while he lowered himself to his knees. A thrill of excitement sparked up the Master’s thighs and he stroked himself with one hand. His other hand reached out to Balthazar, rubbing his thumb over the raised flesh on his cheek.

“What of the woman you told me about? The psychic?”

Balthazar smiled. “She still works as a detective in the city.”

“Good. Once I’m done fixing your pretty face I want you to call her from a pay phone.” He let go of his prick and produced a slip of paper from one of his pockets. “Give her this address and tell her you are a tenant in the building who wishes to remain anonymous. Ask her to check on the man living in apartment 314. Give her my exact message and not a word more. If she starts asking questions, hang up. Do you understand?”

Balthazar nodded and took the paper from him. A drop of fluid dripped from the wound on Balthazar’s wrist, landing on the open flap of his zipper. Balthazar went still, eyes wide and unblinking. The Master swiped a finger in the thick mess, gathering it up and bringing it to his mouth. Balthazar watched in open disgust while he sucked his finger clean, making an obscene show. He wasn’t a fool, bitterness had driven Balthazar to him. The bitterness which comes from public failure. His servant harbored no loyalty or love for him. The only thing burning inside Balthazar was a desire for revenge. But he could use desire in any form and twist it for his own ends. He had long ago mastered the ability to keep his own kind submissive to him. Besides, there would be more coming soon. Already they felt his presence and trickled in by the handful. Each day his pull grew stronger.

Balthazar’s trembling drew his attention. Time to reassert his dominance. He stroked a hand through his wounded servant’s hair.

“Does it hurt?” Balthazar’s whole body gave a violent shudder as he recognized the beginning of their game. The Master tightened his grip, pulling Balthazar’s head back, exposing his neck. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to make it all better?” His words dripped lust like thick sugary syrup. Amber eyes burned in excitement, throwing a faint orange sheen onto Balthazar’s face. He could sense his servant’s dick swelling in his pants. Balthazar would tell himself he hated it, and perhaps part of him did, but he also reveled in it.

“Please.” Balthazar’s voice came out in a needy whine.

The Master pulled Balthazar to him, leaving no space between their bodies. He smashed their mouths together, licking, biting, taking as much pleasure as he gave. The heat of his power poured through his mouth, forcing its way inside Balthazar. His servant struggled in his hold, his body knitting itself back together with a sound like the crackle of a campfire. Little by little his kiss sealed Balthazar’s true form back up behind smooth tan skin. When they broke apart Balthazar gasped, his eyes had become jet black. He fell on the Master’s erection, clumsy and rough in his need to please him and calm the inferno of lust now burning inside.

The Master leaned back, thrusting his hips forward. Balthazar gagged with a rough noise but he kept sucking. Thick ropy strands of saliva leaked down his shaft into his pubic hair. It had taken more power than he anticipated to heal Constantine’s handiwork. John intrigued him. The exorcist had a well-deserved reputation among demons for being a pain in the ass. The Master had seen the fire of excitement in his eyes when he gone up against the demon in Midnite’s club. Not to mention the little challenge he’d thrown out at his apartment. Perhaps the time had come to do more than stare. Constantine reminded him of a wild horse, and like any wild creature he simply needed the right master to bring him to heel. Breaking the exorcist would be a challenge worthy of his skills. An image flashed through his mind of Constantine, chained and collared, begging his Master to fuck him. His orgasm hit him hard, and he grabbed Balthazar to keep him from pulling away. The power rushed in reverse this time, filling him up with raw lust. After the last pulse left him, Balthazar looked up, his eyes clear as he swallowed his Master’s release.

“You love having me inside you, don’t you?” He teased and released his grip. Balthazar stumbled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A wet stain bled through the fabric where Balthazar had come in his pants. He said nothing, but his stricken face told the truth.

“I want you to keep an eye on Constantine. Tell me where he goes and who he sees.”

Balthazar failed to keep his displeasure with the assignment off his face. The Master cuffed him hard.

“I’m sorry. Of course, I’ll do anything you ask.”

“You’re not going to stay pretty enough for me to fuck unless you learn how to keep your attitude under control.”

Balthazar flushed and nodded. He got to his feet and the Master watched him squirm, his desire to leave palpable.

“You’ll report to me every evening.”

“Yes, Master.”

He could feel the beginnings of his post-orgasm intoxication setting in and Balthazar’s jumpiness grated his nerves. “You may go now.”

Balthazar wasted no time in escaping. The Master watched him until he disappeared into the darkness down the long cement tunnel. He licked his lips, even Balthazar’s lust tasted bitter, with a bite like black coffee. He stood, moving around the black arm chair one of his subordinates had brought as an offering. His heavy footsteps echoed in the cavernous chamber. A green door to the right stood open, leading to what had once been a locker room. The lockers in question had all been torn out years ago and now the empty room served as his bedchamber. A giant nest of blankets and pillows covered several stolen mattresses laid out over the broken tile floor. It may not look like much right now, but soon his chamber would be in a palace with all of humanity groveling at his feet. The crack in the door let in enough light to see the bodies of his slaves lying in the tangled mess. They looked up at his approach, adoration plain on their shadowed faces. Those humans weak to his influence had been open to his whispers even in Hell but now they flocked to him, caught up in his whirlpool of lust. They would be his army in the coming war. Now his disciples walked among their fellow humans and soon no one would be able to deny his power.

The angels felt him too. Already one of those pesky do-gooders had stripped a slave from his control. No matter, they were too slavish in their devotion to the rules to act in time and he could afford to lose a battle here or there. He stepped inside his chamber, shutting the door behind him, cutting off the light filtering in from the lanterns on the platform. Like any good predator he could see in the dark. He shed his clothes and crawled into the waiting arms of his thralls.


	5. Whom He May Devour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets a late night call that leads to a dark discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here is chapter 5. Please be aware there is a content warning for descriptions of death and sexual violence in this chapter. Thank you all so much for reading.

Chapter 5: Whom He May Devour

 

 

The shrill ring of John’s cell phone invaded his sleep. He jerked awake and clawed at the sweaty mass of blankets. The closed shutters cut off all light from outside leaving the white glow from his cell phone as a beacon in the dark. By the time he managed to dig out it had stopped ringing, the screen showing eight missed calls from Angela. The little hairs on the back of his neck rose and he shivered despite the heat. He’d almost convinced himself to call her back when the phone started ringing again.

“Hello.”

“Thank God!” Angela shouted over a din of voices and sirens in the background and John held the phone away from his ear. A sick bubbling started in his stomach.

“John, I’ve been calling you for over half an hour now.”

“It’s two in the morning, normal people are asleep at this hour,” he said.

“You’ve never been normal,” she teased.

He flicked on the light next to his bed, wincing while his eyes adjusted to the unwelcome brightness. A pen and notepad lay at the ready on the nightstand. “What can I do for you Angela?”

“Hold on.” The background noise began to change and fade and then her footsteps hurried along until a soft thunk cut off everything but her breathing.

“I need your help.” She paused, letting out a soft sigh. “I know you’ve stepped back and I respect your decision but I’m at a crime scene right now and… well, I think you need to see this.”

His eyebrows shot up. The entire department knew Angela consulted John when her cases had a paranormal or occult element but inviting him to an active crime scene meant whatever she’d seen tonight had shaken her badly. First Chas, now Angela; the flame of his old life stirred again inside him.

“Which part of you is asking for my help, the cop or the psychic?” Her sharp intake of breath answered his question. The wheels of a dark force were turning in L.A. and John couldn’t let his friends face it alone. He threw off the covers, going to his closet. He’d been avoiding the laundry so he dug in the pile and chose the cleanest smelling pair of pants he could find.

“I don’t want to get into it over the phone but something terrible happened here. Will you come?”

“Give me the address, I’ll be right over.” He scribbled down the numbers on his notepad, tearing off the sheet and stuffing it in his pocket. “Got it. I’m heading out the door.”

“Take a cab,” Angela insisted. “I can’t keep everyone waiting all night.”

John made a face “Alright, alright. See you soon.”

Angela thanked him and hung up. He checked his wallet, making sure he had enough cash to pay the fare before throwing on the rest of his clothes. A large unopened bottle of scotch sat on the kitchen table where he’d left it earlier, beckoning to comfort him like a mother’s embrace. A nip would help steel his nerves. He set his hand on the bottle for a long moment.

_When was the last time you were sober for an entire day?_

With a swift, jerky motion John flung the scotch into the porcelain sink. It shattered and the sound of his liquid courage sliding down the drain shredded him. Every muscle in his body fought him as he grabbed his coat and left before he could give in to his desire to rush to the sink and lick what precious little remained off the shards of glass.

 

~@~

 

A potent tingle of lust rippled along John’s skin, tearing him from his brooding thoughts. He looked out the cab’s window. Police lights flickered up ahead and the lust got thicker every second. When the cab pulled up across the street John could practically see the air around the building pulsing and surging in time with his blood. The cops had drawn a small crowd, all standing at the edge of the police tape in their pajamas, craning their necks to get a better look. Several uniformed officers stood guard to keep out the riffraff. John got out of the cab and stared at the apartment building in disbelief. He’d been here before. He’d been too preoccupied when Angela gave him the address to notice. He crossed the street and stepped onto the manicured lawn. He felt for the wards which were supposed to be protecting the red stone building. They were shredded, the remnants of their magic a pitiful echo in the face of the power which had torn through them. The oily mix of demon and sex lay like thick sludge over the entire building.

“John.”

He caught sight of Angela heading towards him and clenched his teeth against the overwhelming urge to flee.

She flashed him a smile but she looked rattled, tight lines around her mouth and eyes. “Thanks for coming.”

“What apartment are we going to?” John asked, some small part of him still clinging to hope.

“It’s the top floor, apartment 314. The tenant is-”

“Dr. Elliot Litchfield,” he finished.

“Wait, you know him?” She whirled around, putting a hand against his chest to stop him. She kept her touch brief, and when John studied her face he noticed pink staining on her cheeks. If he felt affected by the energy, what must this place be doing to her? Angela had worked hard over the past couple of years to master her psychic sense. At first her rediscovered abilities had been impossible to control and whatever she’d touched, she read. When they’d dated he’d tried to help with little success. He sometimes wondered if what she’d seen inside his head had killed the romance. He never asked, afraid of what her answer would be.

“Elliot’s an old friend, a Conjuror. We’ve worked together in the past but I haven’t spoken to him in over a year.”

Angela grimaced. “Listen John, Dr. Litchfield is dead. You might not want to go up there. It’s not pretty,” she said, her eyes going soft as they met his own.

“I’m okay.”

She frowned, a little crease forming between her brows but she turned and began leading him through the throngs of people. The looks being thrown their way as they entered the building were far from welcoming. Angela’s shoulders hunched and he wondered how hard she’d had to fight to bring him on. They climbed in silence, the blatant eroticism in the air becoming more and more oppressive. John pulled at his clothes.

Weiss waited for them at the top of the stairs. He sneered when he saw John.

“I cleared everyone out. I’ll give you and the… exorcist ten minutes in there, but if he contaminates my crime scene...”

Angela cut him off with a withering look, snatching the box of gloves he held and doling out a pair to John. She walked past him without rising to the bait. When John moved to follow her Weiss stepped into his path, blocking off most of the hall.

John snickered and leaned close, holding his arms out. “Did you want to frisk me?” he asked, blowing the detective a kiss.

Weiss’s face turned an incredible shade of purple. “Why you fucking-”

“Enough!” Angela snapped, shoving Weiss out of the way before turning on John. “Grow up. I still have to work with him.”

John shrugged. Angela grabbed his sleeve and dragged him down the hall. When they reached Elliot’s apartment she had him put on booties over his shoes before she opened the door. The ripe smells of death and sex coated the back of his throat the moment he stepped inside and he had to bite his tongue to keep from gagging. Elliot had come from money and his apartment showed it off, but the classy modern furnishings were at odds with the man John had known. There were pieces of him though: the art, collectibles, and shelves upon shelves of books spoke of an intellectual and deeply spiritual man. They walked through the living room. John looked around, surprised at how pristine the place looked, with the after effects he’d assumed there must have been a demon orgy here. They turned down the hallway toward the bedrooms and Angela stopped in front of Elliot’s door, turning to him.

“I had them leave the body the way we found it so don’t move anything.” Angela took a small jar of menthol out of her pocket and held it out to him. He swiped some under his nostrils and armored himself for what lay on the other side. Angela pushed open the door, letting him enter first.

John stepped over the threshold and gasped, raw lust tightening his body until even his breathing felt strained. It gripped him with primal force dragging his most sordid desires to the forefront of his mind. John checked himself, digging his nails into his palms. After a few deep breaths the worst of it cleared and he got back to work.

The struggle had happened in here. The room looked as though someone had let a wild bear loose inside, furniture broken and book pages littering the floor like a carpet of dry leaves. John’s gaze fell on the bed where Elliot lay face down. His wrists and ankles had been bound with strips torn from the sheets, spreading him over the mattress. He was naked, his thin body covered with bruises, cuts, and deep bite marks.

Constantine climbed over the debris, moving closer to the bed. His friend’s green eyes were clouded, lifeless, staring at the wall opposite his bed. John wished he could close them. There were stains on the sheets and slick fluid leaking down Elliot’s thighs onto the bed and John blanched. The air in here felt close, lying against his skin like a wet cloth. And even with the menthol the smell snuck in. His mouth filled with hot saliva. He should have taken a drink. He shook himself. Several jagged cuts on Elliot’s arms got his attention. The wounds sliced right through the protective sigils Elliot had tattooed on himself, a safeguard for his rather dangerous line of work. The wounds started high, where his neck met his shoulder and continued down to his wrists, but they were shallow, piercing just the top layer of skin with none of the violence obvious in the other wounds. Had Elliot cut himself? Wounds covered Elliot’s body but none of them looked fatal. So what killed him? And who?

He searched over every visible inch of the body before turning back towards Angela with a quizzical look. She pointed up to the ceiling. His eyes traveled up and the floor dropped out from under him. There, sprawled over the white ceiling, were the stark black lines of a demonic summoning seal. John’s mind rebelled. He’d assumed things had turned violent after Elliot made the mistake of sleeping with a strange demon. But Elliot had summoned it out of Hell? None of this made sense. Sure, bedroom proclivities had never been part of their conversations, but magic and spirituality certainly were. Elliot fought against demons. His magic centered on the divinity within all life and he had been devoted to God. It had been a while since they’d talked but John couldn’t reconcile the man he’d known making such a dark and destructive choice. The seal loomed above him, damning evidence of his friend’s corruption.

He turned back to Angela, feeling bloodless as the implications of what he saw set in. The look in her eyes apologized for bringing him here.

“You did the right thing,” John said.

“Do you need a minute?” she asked. He shook his head, clambering back over to her. He still had questions.

“Alright, I give up. What killed him?”

A flush spread over Angela’s cheeks, her hands coming up to play with the silver chain that held her crucifix. “It’s obvious what he was doing before he died. I mean, this whole place feels...” Her voice trailed off. John snorted, Angela could be such a prude.

“Yeah I noticed. Are you trying to tell me he got fucked to death?”

Angela shot him a frosty glare but the surprise in her face told him he’d hit closer than she expected.

“The medical examiner called it cardiac arrest but there’s more to it. I felt weird from the minute I stepped out of my car tonight. Under normal circumstances I avoid touching the bodies, death leaves a psychic imprint and I see enough bad stuff as it is. But with everything I felt just from standing in this room, I had to know. When Weiss stepped out I took off my glove and touched him.” She stopped, her tongue flicking out to moisten her lips.

John waited for her to continue but she seemed to be having trouble.

“What did you see Angela?”

“It’s hard to process. All this is part of some kind of ritual he performed.” She gestured at the seal. “The further back I went the memories got more fragmented but I think he’d been planning this for a long time. The ritual took a lot of energy, it left him weak, but he succeeded. He wasn’t happy though. In his head I felt desperation and guilt. The demon he summoned, his eyes burn.”

Constantine’s ears pricked up. “What kind of eyes?”

“Amber, like hot coals.”

John’s mouth went dry. Balthazar’s words taunted him. He did always seem to bite off more than he could chew.

“Why would the demon kill him? If Elliot summoned him he must have been enthralled, why not continue to use him? Demons don’t throw away power.”

“I don’t think your friend wanted to serve the demon, he wanted something from him. He kept talking about a cure, commanding the demon to help him, promising to reward him. The demon was smart though, he convinced Dr. Litchfield he needed to be free of the seal in order to cure him. He said they had to touch. Dr. Litchfield damaged the seal and cut his arms.” Angela cleared her throat. “They had sex, over and over, each time more violent than the last. You were being a smartass earlier but I think you’re right. The demon… sucked the life out of him while they had sex. I felt him getting weaker and weaker until his body shut down. The worst part of it all is Dr. Litchfield enjoyed it, he kept crying out for more even as he died.”

“An incubus.”

“Excuse me?”

“The demon Elliot summoned, it’s an incubus.” John’s voice came out rough. The room began to spin around him, making him feel like a boat on a roiling sea. A sharp coppery taste spread over his tongue. He needed to get out of this fetid room, right now.

The door opened behind them and Weiss stepped in. John barreled past him before he had a chance to speak, racing down the stairs. Angela followed, calling after him but he kept going. He made it out onto the grass before he lost it, the scant contents of his stomach burning up through his mouth and nose. Pain bloomed inside his head, his body determined to punish him. He heard Angela come up behind him. She waited in silence until he finished retching. He took a cloth out of his pocket and wiped his mouth. John straightened, his face and neck hot with shame.

“You okay?” Angela asked

“Yeah. I quit drinking,” he explained, and the shock on her face embarrassed him. She looked like she wanted to say something but instead she nodded and turned back to the matter at hand.

“So my vic summoned an incubus?” Angela carded her slender fingers through her hair.

John nodded. “And then turned it loose in the city.” His eyes met Angela’s and in that gaze they both acknowledged the truth, they weren’t going to walk away from this. A human made this mess and now they had to clean it up. Angela started walking towards her car motioning for John to follow. The crisp night air wafted over him, cooling the sweat pooled at the base of his skull. Angela stopped at her black SUV, glancing around to make sure they were out of earshot.

“So what now?”

What now indeed? He’d told Chas he was the wrong guy and he still believed it, but Elliot had brought a cancer into all their lives and they only stood a chance if they cut it out. Besides, he wasn’t willing to condemn his kind, quiet friend without finding out why he did it.

“Now I call in a favor to see if I can find out where our incubus is squatting.”

Angela’s delicate brows came together. “How can I help?”

“I need you to stay open, if you pick up anything let me know. He needs sex like humans need air and since he killed Elliot he’ll be looking for another source.”

The radio clipped to her belt crackled and she grabbed it. “This is 235. Say again?”

What followed sounded to John like a bunch of garbled static but it got Angela’s attention. She snapped the radio back into place.

“I’m sorry, I have to finish up here. They need us on another call.”

“Aren’t you still working on this one?”

“Things have been crazy these past couple of days.” She raised up, placing a light kiss on his cheek. “You better call me.”

John heard Weiss calling to her and decided to leave before he could get drawn into another pissing contest. He started for home on foot, worming his way through the crowd of rubberneckers. He had been walking for several blocks when he noticed his hands were steady for the first time in months.


	6. Mother of Harlots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John calls in a favor and gets more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, Chapter 6 is finally ready to go. I just want to say thanks so much to all who have left kudos or taken the time to review. It means so much to me! I hope everyone continues to enjoy the story. :)

Chapter 6: Mother of Harlots

 

 

John stepped onto the patio outside a coffee shop called The Den. A hand painted wooden sign bearing the name hung over the frosted glass door. All the tables outside were empty except one near the door. A pretty young woman with an unnatural shade of flame red hair sat alone, her eyes glued to her phone. She glanced up as he approached the door and a flash of red shone from her pupils. He nodded and she held his gaze for a moment before turning her attention back to texting.

A wave of sound enveloped him when he got inside, the chaos of the morning rush evident in the smell of burnt coffee and the long line stretching from the counter. Constantine sidled into place at the end of the line. Several pairs of eyes settled on him and he did his best to appear relaxed and friendly. Standing in line gave him an opportunity to look around. They’d redecorated since the last time he’d been here. Couches and an eclectic collection of armchairs placed around polished wooden tables invited people to sit, talk and perhaps make new friends. It looked like a million other hipster coffee spots except John could spot the lures. Tarted up demons of every gender sprinkled through the crowd, putting out their feelers for patrons who might be interested in more than a stimulating conversation.

“What can I get for you, sir?”

John looked up at the dark eyed minx behind the counter. She licked her lips and smiled. He stepped up laying his sweaty palms on the glass counter.

“I need to see her.”

“Do you have an appointment Mr. Constantine?”

John forced a smile. They knew damn well he didn’t have an appointment. “I can wait if she’s busy but I will speak with her.”

“You don’t make the rules here exorcist.” She slapped her hands down on his hard enough to sting, holding him in place as she leaned close. A venomous smile curled her lips up.

The phone next to the cash register buzzed, startling both of them. The succubus eyed him sharply before picking it up. “Hello?”

The soft murmur from the voice on the other end reached John’s ears and the girl stiffened, her face going cold. “Yes, Mistress,” she said before replacing the receiver.

“I’m guessing she wants to see me?”

“She’s waiting downstairs,” she replied. The look on her face made him certain she wanted to burn him where he stood.

John lips parted in a self-satisfied grin and he walked to the large black door set in a recess to the right of the counter. The words “Employees Only” were stenciled in white block letters on the front. He took one last look at the exit before going through the door. The black paint covered a thick steel which slammed shut behind him with a gust of air and an ominous thud. A flight of stairs lead down a brick tunnel to the lower level. At the bottom of this passage lay the true Den, an unsavory haunt provided by Hell’s most notorious succubus for her kin to meet the lovers they’d enthralled in safety and comfort. He forced himself to start down the stairs. It had been three years since he’d last seen Lillith but she still had the power to make him uneasy. He did have the upper hand this time. He’d saved her life and she owed him a favor. The bottom of the stairs opened onto a tiny landing, most of which was taken up by the largest incubus John had ever laid eyes on. The man had to be close to seven feet, every inch of his muscular body shown off to perfection in an adornment of leather and spikes which left very little to the imagination. The incubus motioned for John to come over.

“He’s here,” he said into a bluetooth device clipped to his ear. “You want me to send him back?”

John peered around the demon’s bulk to the second steel door. The demon tugged his shirt.

“You’re going to go down the hall and take the first right, it’s the door at the end with the gargoyle knocker. You open any other doors or try any of your exorcist bullshit and I’ll break your fucking legs, got it?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

The demon pulled open the door for him. John walked into a long dim hallway. The air down here smelled faintly of sweat, sex, and fear. Small lamps placed next to each one of the midnight blue doors running down the hall provided the light. The soundproofing left something to be desired and every now and then a muffled moan or scream would drift out to him. His scrotum tightened and he chided himself while he hurried down the hall.

Lillith’s door had a medieval style gargoyle knocker set in the center; the creature’s grotesque face leered up at him. John stuck his tongue out at it before using the metal knocker.

“Come in.”

On the other side of the door a cavernous room opened up before him. There were no windows, no sunlight to intrude on the eternal night of this place, just the glow from the hundreds of candles placed on almost every flat surface in the room. They gave off an inescapable sweet honey smell.

“I’ll be out in a minute. Please make yourself at home.”

John spotted a flash of red gold hair behind a room divider in the back right corner of the room. Lillith’s silhouette danced over the silk screen painting of jade serpents.

A huge gothic four post bed provided the only seating in the room, the emerald green bedding shimmered as the candlelight licked over it. John did not want to end up on a bed with Lillith so he decided to stand. He wandered around, taking in the rather dramatic decor. The bathroom door stood open and he peeked inside, its sunken stone tub filled with disturbingly dark water. Before he could investigate, a rustle behind him made him turn as Lillith emerged. She wore a loose black silk robe, her still wet hair braided in a copper waterfall that trailed over her shoulder to brush the floor. A flash of leather and porcelain skin peeked out at him from the gap in her robe.

“I must say this is a pleasant surprise Mr. Constantine. It’s been a long time.” Her voice reminded him of good whiskey, smooth and dark. She held out her hand for him to kiss.

He touched his lips to her skin while her sharp green eyes raked over him. “Thank you for seeing me, Lillith. You look ravishing.”

His flattery brought a sensuous smile to her face. Every atom of Lillith’s being drew people in to her. Being in this room with her made John’s body sit up and take notice. Tension curled between his shoulders. He needed to be careful here.

“Lillith, I need to ask a favor of you.”

“What kind of favor?”

“I need information.”

“Hmm, somewhat less fun than I hoped,” she said, but curiosity flashed in her eyes. She sat herself on the bed crossing her legs so the slit on her robe fell open to her waist. “What information are you looking for?”

“Elliot Litchfield summoned an incubus and it killed him. Now I think the demon’s hiding somewhere in the city, and I think you know where.”

Lillith’s face paled. “What makes you think I know where to find him?”

“Don’t jerk me around. People come here for more than sex. You’ve worked hard to make sure not a damn thing happens in this city without you hearing about it.” John stepped closer to her. He had no intention of letting her squirm out of this.

Lillith frowned for a minute before her face lightened and she gave a soft laugh. “Alright, but why should I help you? What’s in it for me? No one gets anything for free.”

“Because you owe me,” John shot back.

“Oh pooh, don’t be boring John.” She came over to him, reaching up to straighten his tie. The heat of her body bled into his clothes and John swallowed hard. “What about a game?”

“I’m listening.”

“A quid pro quo would spice things up. For every question you ask me I get to ask one of my own. We’ll take turns and we can both ask about anything we want.”

“Anything… ” John’s internal warning system flared to life. This had bad idea written all over it. Still, Lillith was his best chance of finding information without having to pummel half the demons in Los Angeles. Information always had a price. John took a deep breath and decided to pay. “Let’s play.”

“Wonderful. Now we both must agree to tell the truth.”

“Scout’s honor,” John swore, but the hunger in Lillith’s eyes made him want to run and hide.

“Good. Let’s get comfortable.” She took his hand and dragged him over to the bed, pulling him down beside her. “I’ll even be a gracious hostess and let you go first.”

John cut to the quick. “Do you know where the incubus who killed Elliot is?”

Her mouth gave a rueful twist. “I don’t. I had tabs on him for about 24 hours after he arrived and then he vanished. My spies haven’t had a whiff of him since and if anyone knows where he is they are keeping it to themselves. I can feel him though, seeping through the city like a sickness. Your friend must have been very powerful to bring him here. Very stupid too.”

John closed his eyes, right back where he started. Of course it had to be like giving a pill to a cat. Why had he ever dared to hope otherwise? Her words kept turning over in his mind though. Lillith feared the demon Elliot had summoned. What kind of demon struck fear even in the heart of his kin? Instinct told him to dig deeper and find out what she knew.

“My turn. When did you last have sex?”

John’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

She made a soft tsking sound, fingers playing over the fringe of hair at the bottom of her braid. “I can ask about anything I want. So out with it, when did you last indulge in the pleasures of the flesh?”

John cringed. He’d made a deal. “About two years ago.”

“Quite a dry spell. You’re not becoming an ascetic are you?”

John ignored the question, forcing himself to smile through her teasing so he could get something to make this humiliation worthwhile.

“This incubus, do you know him?”

“He calls himself the Master and I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of belonging to him. So yes, I know him, and I’m staying as far away from him as I can. I would advise you to do the same.” Lillith made a face as though talking about him left a bad taste in her mouth. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. It shocked him to think of Lillith as vulnerable and without thinking he put his arm around her shoulders. She cuddled close, before sliding one of her hands up his thigh. He caught it before it reached his crotch.

“Don’t make me regret being nice to you,” he warned.

“You can’t blame me for trying.” She turned her face up to his. “So what’s the problem Johnny boy, no one out there gets your motor running?”

John stiffened. There had been opportunities, with men and women, but he never did more than some heavy making out before finding an excuse to leave. He shied away from dissecting his motives, it would mean acknowledging his feelings for Chas went much deeper than he could accept. Lillith sat up straighter, a bird-of prey look in her eyes.

“The problem is me. The one night stands have lost their shine but I’m shit at serious relationships. The older I get the messier it all seems.” It wasn’t a lie but one look at Lillith’s face told him she knew he’d hidden part of the truth. She pushed away, her face cold and flat.

“Foolish human, a lie of omission is still a lie.” She slapped him hard across the face. He stared at her in stunned silence, blood rushing to his wounded cheek. He moved to stand but she pushed him back, driving him into the bed and crawling on top. Her fast fingers yanked his shirt out of his pants, exposing his pale stomach. She dug her nails into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. It welled up around her black lacquer nails, the threat clear. “You came to me, remember? You agreed to play my game. You and I both know I have something you want, you just have to ask the right question. It’s in your best interest to keep me happy because honestly I don’t give a damn whether or not you find this incubus. I’ll survive either way. I always do.”

John nodded, his face stinging along with his pride. Lillith pulled her nails back, settling herself so she straddled him on the bed. He choked down his protest, not wanting to piss her off more.

“Now did you want to revise your answer?” She asked

“There’s someone I have feelings for, but it’s never going to happen. I should let it go but… “ Pulling the words out felt like pulling a body out of quicksand but now the dam inside John had cracked and he almost wanted to let it all spill out. John looked away trying to slam his feelings back into the box he kept them in.

“Aww who could resist you? Tall, dark, and emotionally unavailable. You’re everyone’s wet dream.” Lillith laughed in unrestrained glee.

John struggled to keep from dumping her in a heap on the floor. She said he needed to ask the right questions so he needed to clear the angel out of his mind. He latched on to the first solid question.

“You called him the Master but who is he really? What is his name?”

“I’ll answer your question but let ask you something first. Why are you going after him?”

“Now who’s breaking the rules?” he accused.

“Humor me.”

“Elliot was a friend.”

“Bullshit,” she snorted. “I heard you’d left the life, content to do small time cleansings and drown your memories at Midnite’s club. So what changed? What made this matter to you?”

_I know you’re a good man._

John slammed his eyes closed. Lillith had picked apart his carefully crafted shields with surgical precision. He didn’t want to think about Chas, not here in this bed with her pressing against his dick. But like a geyser his feelings for the angel began forcing themselves to the surface. Lillith’s eyes bored into him and he shuddered.

She crawled up his body. “What’s going on in your head John?”

He squirmed, wanting to get away before she could do any more damage, but she held on tight.

“Get off me!” He said, his voice a strained croak. She grasped his head between her hands, her strong thighs clamped against his chest. He pushed her hard but she stayed put, digging her nails into his temples.

“Open your eyes. Show me what you’re hiding.” The hot tingle of power feathered up his cheekbones and into his eyes, popping them open against his will. Her hypnotic green eyes were waiting, swallowing him whole like a mire in a swamp. It felt like falling even though the silken bed stayed steady underneath him. He screamed at himself to move, to fight her off, but his body lay limp as a ragdoll, surrendering to her assault. She drove her consciousness into his and a nauseating sensation clawed up from his gut as she rifled through his mind. He couldn’t say how long it went on, maybe seconds, maybe hours, but all at once reality snapped back and they were once agains two separate beings.

“Chas? I’m surprised,” Lillith said.

John blinked up at her, his breath coming in short harsh pants. The change came over her slowly. His eyes watered as her face distorted, shimmering and waving like an image seen through water. The change rippled down her body, her form stretched and morphed, converting to its new parameters. Tingling heat suffused the space around their bodies, making beads of sweat spring up over John’s skin. As her image cleared he panicked, struggling in earnest again because Lillith no longer stared back at him, Chas did.

“This wasn’t part of the deal,” he hissed.

“We both know this is what you want. I can smell it on you.”

She even had Chas’s voice now. She slid back to prove her point, a victorious smirk coming over Chas’s features when she found the shameful hardness between his legs. The unmistakable answering erection sent confusing messages through John’s body. He hated her for being right, for exposing what he’d worked desperately hard to bury. Now his base fantasy touched him, invading his senses, crawling inside him and making him wild. He groaned, reaching up and pulling the angel down. Their lips met, the taste of Chas shooting right to his dick. How could she taste just like him? His body didn’t care how, it simply wanted more. He thrust his hips up, grinding his swollen flesh into the image of the man he wanted more than anything.

“Good boy, just give in to it.”

The words spoken against his lips sent ice water down his spine. John jerked back, his belief shattered. Physically she could imitate Chas down the the last detail but she could never duplicate what John really wanted. Fucking this shell would be as hollow as any one night stand. John slammed his palms into her chest, unbalancing her and giving himself time to rear up off his back. He grabbed his crucifix out of his pocket, pressing the metal into the skin on the back of her hand. She shrieked, and tried to jerk away but he held hard enough to bruise. The cross tore away her magic, leaving her in her true form once again.

“Lillith you are a real piece of work.”

She lay next to him on the bed, chunks of red-gold hair sticking to her face and shoulders where it had come free from her braid. Her robe had fallen open, one rose pink nipple exposed above the curve of her corset. Her beauty infuriated him. She laughed and a red haze descended over his vision.

“Oh, it was worth it.”

“Fuck you.” Despite his desire to flee up to the fresh air and rid his lungs of the intoxicating blend of Chas and sex hanging in the air, he wasn’t leaving without a name. He ground the cross into her flesh, searing down to her delicate bones. “Give me what I came here for.”

“I tried to.”

“Tell me his name dammit!”

“Asmodeus, Master of Lust.”

John let go of her hand and watched her pout over the broken skin. He sat, trying to put his mind back together and deal with what she’d told him. One of the kings of Hell lay in wait out there in the night? Elliot, what had you gotten yourself into? John had faced much in his life but the last time he’d gone up against such a powerful demon it had cost him Chas’s life and nearly his own.

Lillith interrupted his thoughts. “Take my advice, let someone else deal with him. I would hate to see you go to an almost certain death.”

“I’m not sure there is anyone else,” John admitted and Lillith nodded. He stood, smoothing his clothes while he walked to the door. He needed to talk to Chas. The angel would keep digging and John had to warn him of the monster lurking in the pit. He flushed, after this display of weakness it would be preferable to never have to face Chas again. It would be the last time, he promised himself. He’d tell Chas he had it taken care of and then the angel could go back to his life, out of his and Asmodeus’s reach. Before he opened the door Lillith called out to him.

“When you’re ready to stop running away, I’ll be waiting.”

John said nothing, replying would be giving her what she wanted. He yanked open the door and stepped out into the hall, booking it out of her warren. Her laughter followed him back up to the street.


	7. Flesh and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas and John turn a corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry Chapter 7 took longer than previous chapters. Editing this one was a beast. But it is finally done and I hope you all enjoy. ^_^

Chapter 7: Flesh and Blood

 

 

The cab’s tires squealed as Chas gunned it around the curve, ramping the curb into the church parking lot. Damn Uriel! Damn all of them. How could they sit there and chide him about his interference after he’d told them what he witnessed? He slowed down and drove around to the back lot, the lights on his car slicing through the newly fallen dark. He parked and leaned back in his seat, taking a couple of minutes to breathe the anger out of his body. Father Levin would worry if he saw Chas like this and the angel did not want to upset the kind priest. He’d been given a place here and the Father hadn’t asked anything in return or pried into his past. To repay his kindness Chas had vowed to protect the man’s peace.

At first the figure appeared to be a darker shadow deep in the corner next to the back entrance. But when Chas stepped out of his cab it detached itself from the white washed stucco and came toward him.

“Did you come to tell me I’m right?”

John stiffened at his question but kept walking. “I did.”

“So what’s going on?”

“A human has summoned Asmodeus out of Hell.”

Chas’s wings betrayed his agitation, the feathers shifting and trembling. How could John sound so calm? Asmodeus. It made sense, the air in the city had become charged with a palpable sense of danger. He’d merely been waiting for confirmation. Still, the name on John’s lips woke a primal fear within him.

“A human summoned him? Who? Why?”

“Elliot Litchfield,” John said, and Chas frowned, the name meant nothing to him. “I thought you might remember him, you met once. He and I used to work together on occasion. Truth is I don’t know why he did it, but it’s done.”

Chas shook his head, he’d been so sure the fault lay with the demons.

“Where are they?”

“Elliot’s dead. Asmodeus killed him after he came through, then disappeared into the city. Right now he could be anywhere.” John ran his fingers through his hair. Their eyes met and electricity sparked between them. “I wanted to tell you I’m taking care of it. Guess you got your wish after all.”

“How did you find all of this out? I thought you were staying out of it?” Chas stepped forward, invading John’s personal space. Constantine started to retreat but caught himself, his hands clenching into fists.

“Angela got assigned to Elliot’s murder. She had a vision of him summoning the demon so she called and asked for my help.”

Chas’s jaw clenched, of course he’d do it for her. Stop it! Getting all green-eyed now would only push John further away. He searched John’s face, hoping to find a hint of what the other man was thinking, maybe even some small encouragement. John had come to him after all. His tongue swiped over his lips and he swallowed hard. He’d been waiting for something big enough to smash through the wedge John had driven between them. They were meant to do this together. The thread stretching between them had never broken. Did Constantine feel it too? They stood face to face, encased in the faint orange glow from the exterior lights.

“Alright, now we know what we’re facing. What’s our next step?”

John pressed his lips together. “Your next step is a step back. You wanted me to look into it and I did. My friend made a mistake and I intend to fix it, but you’re staying out it. ”

Chas’s face burned with bruised pride. Constantine still treated him like some fragile creature to be protected from danger but he had power and John needed his help. He looked straight into John’s eyes, challenging the other man to acknowledge his strength. Something wild moved in John’s dark orbs and this time he did take a step back from Chas.

“John, I’m a part of this fight whether you like or not. Asmodeus is already affecting the humans, turning them into mindless carnal animals. I wrested one thrall from his control yesterday but who knows how many are out there. He could be building an army.”

“Fine, then you and the other angels can do what you do best and protect the humans. I’ll do what I do best and get rid of the monster,” John said.

“You think you can fight him on your own? Asmodeus is easily as powerful as Mammon. Let me help you.”

“Yeah well, we all know how the fight against Mammon turned out.” John’s throat worked hard, like there was something stuck inside. “I’m going to tell you now what I should have told you then. I work alone.” John pushed past Chas and kept walking, the finality of his words loud and clear.

Chas’s mouth dropped open, his blood boiling like a pot with the lid screwed down tight. John walked across the lot without so much as a glance back. He’d had all he could take of John’s guilt. He’d tried to be sensitive, his death had caused Constantine a lot of pain but the time had come to lance it open like an abscess. The muscles along his back contracted, launching him into the air. He came down right in front of John, landing hard enough to crack the asphalt.

“Dammit Constantine! When are you going to get over this? You weren’t responsible for my death.”

John fliched back like he’d been slapped, the color draining from his face. For a moment he had the look of a cornered animal and Chas half expected him to run for it. He stayed though, his voice coming out hoarse when he spoke.

“Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes.”

John took a deep breath and nodded. Chas wanted to go to him, to offer comfort and show him they weren’t adversaries. But first John had to open his eyes.

“Why do I get the feeling my death is hanging around your neck like an anchor?”

“You never should have been there. It was my job to protect you.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. I made my own choice, I knew the risks.” John shook his head and Chas groaned in frustration. “You did the best you could. You had no way of knowing about Gabriel.”

John let out a bitter laugh, a haunted look in his eyes. “I fucked it up, Chas. I should have left you with Midnite. You would have been safe there, but I let your confidence and those puppy dog eyes get to me.” He turned away, pacing back and forth.

Chas’s heart wrenched in his chest. “You may not like it but you needed my help. I had to grow up eventually John. Did you think I’d be content to drive you around and stay behind forever?”

“You’re right. I did need you, which is why I never should have let you in. When I saw for the first time at the library, reading your ridiculous demonology book I should have walked past you and never said a word. It would have been best for you if you’d never met me.”

The words sliced deep into Chas. How could John wish they’d never met? In the wake of pain came fire, licking up the sides of Chas’s face.

“Stop this already! Stop punishing us for my death.” He stormed forward, grabbing Constantine’s arm, whirling him around. John turned to stone in his hands but he held on tight. “Am I supposed to apologize for dying? Well I’m sorry John. It isn’t what I would have chosen either, but it’s not all bad. I’m still here. I’m standing right in front of you.”

Stone transmuted to living flesh a second before John wrenched out of his hands. Constantine took Chas’s shoulders and shook him until his teeth clacked together. Chas relaxed his body, letting John work out his anger. John’s fingers dug deep into his flesh as Constantine dragged him forward, their faces less than an inch apart.

“It is fucking bad!” John roared. “You died! You should be angry with me.” He gripped Chas harder with each word, holding the angel still with bruising force.

“It’s my choice isn’t it? I’m only angry about you using my death as an excuse to shut down.

John shoved him away with an agonized groan. “Don’t do this.”

Chas’s eyes went wide. Shame and guilt had eaten into John’s heart for the past two years, corrupting him until the idea of Chas’s forgiveness hurt him. Tears pricked Chas’s eyes and he reached out for John but Constantine backed away.

“I was supposed to die, not you,” John whispered

Chas gasped. John held himself rigid, but the cracks were showing, revealing the pain tearing him apart inside. More than anything Chas wanted to take John’s pain away.

“John look at me, please.”

Constantine stared at the ground for a long time and Chas waited, praying John would let him in. Finally John relented and looked at him.

“I didn’t die so you could live. You know it doesn’t work that way.” Chas inched closer to Constantine as he spoke. “You can’t change what happened but I’m begging you, please stop letting it destroy you. John, you were given a beautiful gift, a second chance. I hate to see you throwing it away. ”

Chas slid his fingers over John’s cheek. Constantine went stiff for a second and then deflated, melting into Chas’s touch. The angel took his opportunity, wrapping his arms around John’s shoulders and pulling him close. By some miracle John allowed it, pressing his big body close to Chas. They stood together in the stillness of the night, closer than they’d been in years and Chas’s blood rushed in his ears. He could smell John, feel his heat and even though he was lucky to have this much, he wanted more. He squeezed tighter, burying his face in John’s chest.

Without warning John pulled back, taking Chas’s face in his hands. His eyes bored into the angel as if he were searching for something inside him. Chas’s heart fluttered against his ribs and he trembled in John’s hold. For the first time since his death John looked at him like he saw the man in front of him and not a ghost. John moved toward him a fraction, hot breath fanning over his face. Chas froze, afraid the slightest movement would break the spell.

John’s hands slid down his neck and over his shoulders coming to rest against the silken feathers covering his wings. Chas bit his tongue to stifle a gasp. Pleasure sparked down his spine as John’s fingers traced over the gentle curve, carding through his feathers.

“They’re beautiful.” John said, his voice low enough to make Chas shiver.

Chas’s mouth went dry. He fisted his hands into the thick material of John’s coat, sealing their bodies together. John didn’t stop him, in fact he seemed as lost in the storm building between them as Chas. Their heartbeats raced together. Everything fell away, the night, the past, the demon, leaving them face to face with nothing standing between them. John swore under his breath and grabbed Chas’s chin, turning his face up. Their noses bumped together and Chas sucked in his breath, as John’s mouth descended.

From the right someone cleared their throat and John halted, his lips barely brushing Chas’s. In one fluid move John pulled back and Chas looked over to see Father Levin standing on the back entry steps.

“Dammit.” Chas whispered. John shot him a sharp look before stepping back. Cold air rushed in the unwelcome space between them.

“Did you need something Father?” Chas said, unable to keep the strained tone out of his voice. The urge to scream in frustration tightened his jaw. Ten seconds, if he'd just waited ten more seconds. His groin throbbed with unfulfilled promise and Chas hoped the dim light hid his condition.

“I’m sorry Chas, I didn’t know you were with a friend. I wanted to see if you were coming to evening prayer? Your friend is welcome to join us of course,” the priest said, his manners flawless as usual.

“I appreciate the offer Father but I have to be going,” John replied.

Chas glanced up and his stomach sank. John was deliberately looking anywhere but at him, desperate to bolt into the night. His hand shot out, clamping down on John’s, preventing any escape. His hopes for romance lay dashed on the floor but John wasn’t leaving until he’d agreed to let Chas help him with Asmodeus. John tried to pull away but Chas held fast.

“I’ll be there in a moment Father. I’m just going to see John to his car,” Chas replied, a reassuring smile plastered on his face. Father Levin pushed his thick spectacles up his nose and nodded before heading back inside. Once the door had closed, Chas rounded on John.

“John, let me help you. A man alone doesn’t stand a chance against Asmodeus, even you.”

“Chas…” John trailed off, his brows drawing together.

“We were good together in the past, weren’t we?” Chas said. He often thought fondly of the rhythm he’d developed working with John. It could be good again. The memories lay coiled within him, waiting for the chance to spring to life.

John chewed on his bottom lip as he considered. Chas could read him like a book though. The obvious chemistry between them filled up the silence. John hated complications and despite their breakthrough things had never been more complicated between them. But John wanted it too. It rippled over the surface for a brief second before Constantine managed to shove it down again. John wanted him, Chas had seen it. And he had no intention of letting it go.

John’s resolve crumbled. “I don’t know what Asmodeus came here for. Bringing an angel into this could be playing right into his hands.”

“Then we’ll have to be careful. This doesn’t have to turn into a holy war. You and I can stop him before he has a chance to tear the city apart with his lust.” Chas let out the breath he’d been holding.

Constantine crossed his arms. A soft smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. Some of the tension drained out of his body.

“If we do this we do it my way.”

“We do everything your way.”

John chuckled. “Alright. Lets kick some ugly demon ass.”

Chas’s face cracked in huge grin. John smiled back at him and for a brief moment the last two years were erased and they were like they had always been.

“You got a plan?”

“I’m working on it. You should head back in, it’s rude to keep the priest waiting.”

“When am I going to see you again?”

“I’ve got some research to do. Give me your number and I’ll let you know what our next move is going to be.”

Chas took the pen John held out to him and scribbled his number on John’s palm. He let his fingers trail over John’s wrist before he pulled away. Constantine’s pulse still pounded under the thin skin. Their eyes met again and Chas let the heat smoldering inside him show. John licked his lips but then pulled away, shaking his head.

“I must be crazy,” he muttered. With a nod he turned and left, his dark form melting into the night. Chas stood in the muted light, staring after him long after he’d gone.

 

*@*

 

Chas lay in his bed under a thin sheet. He’d pushed the other covers onto the floor with his fitful attempts to sleep. Every place John had touched him remained lit up, stinging him over and over again with heated fantasies. Even kneeling in the pew next to Father Levin, all he’d thought about was John. His lips mouthing the words out of reflex while his mind ran wild. He sat up, reaching back to run his fingers over his wings, mirroring Constantine’s movements. His dick strained in his sleep pants, ardent and needy. He kept one hand teasing his sensitive wings while the other strayed down beneath the waistband. A few rough strokes had him biting his lip to keep silent as he shuddered through his climax. John’s face strobed behind his eyes and he couldn’t help but wonder if Constantine lay in his own bed thinking of him. He wiped his hand off and settled back against the mattress, basking in relief. Sleep began to creep in and he had one last coherent thought before he drifted off. He’d get to see John again soon.


	8. Works of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus leaves a warning for John. Meanwhile tension grows between Chas and John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. So this chapter does have a warning for crime scene descriptions and brief mentions of sexual violence. Thank you all for reading and bearing with me during these edits. Enjoy!

Chapter 8: Works of Darkness

 

 

John leaned back from the ancient book open on his table, twisting around from side to side in his chair. An unrelenting cramp had settled into the muscles surrounding his spine. The clock on the wall reminded him he’d been sitting here for more than five hours now. He frowned at the stack of books covering every inch of space on his table, the result of a morning spent digging up every piece of information about Asmodeus he could find. Time to break for lunch. Pins and needles spread through his long legs as he stood, forcing him to hobble in a small circle to restore blood flow. He glanced longingly at his bedroom. He wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep for the next twelve hours. Last night the memory of what happened with Chas had hounded him, keeping his sleep fitful and filled with heated dreams. He went to the fridge, cold air escaping around him while he grimaced at the scant offerings. A dull pain throbbed behind his eyes, reminding him withdrawal still had it’s claws in him, though thankfully the worst had passed.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he grabbed it. Angela had sent him a text.

_John need to see you ASAP. I’m at the station._

He started typing a reply when another message popped up on the screen.

_He’s killed again_

John stared down at the screen, his hands going sweaty and numb. A million questions ran through his mind, each feeding the ball of anxiety expanding inside him. He turned away from the fridge, leaving the door ajar. He sent Angela a reply before stuffing the phone back in his pocket.

_Omw_

Damn, no more chance of ending it before the body count could grow. It made no sense, sexual demons were as dangerous as any demon, but they tended to keep their victims alive, toying with them for months or even years. They couldn’t feed off a corpse. Asmodeus had proved himself to be the most ruthless of his kind, fighting his way to a kingship. But even after reading countless stories and legends about Asmodeus, John wasn’t any closer to understanding the darkness inside him.

He reached for his coat and a smudge of ink on the back of his hand caught his attention. Chas’s number. His heart gave a nervous flutter. How on earth had he let the angel talk his way back into his life? Hadn’t last night proved he had absolutely no control where Chas was concerned? He hovered in front of his door, his phone a heavy weight in his back pocket. Chas would be hurt if he didn’t call. John sighed and grabbed his phone again. He'd agreed to let Chas back in, now time would tell what his decision would mean for both of them. He dialed the number scrawled over his skin, taking his coat and shutting the door behind him. The phone rang several times before Chas answered.

“Hello?”

Chas’s voice made his dick twitch.

“Chas I need you to pick me up. Angela says Asmodeus’s killed again and she wants us to meet her at the station.”

“Okay. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

John hung up without saying goodbye. He had to keep himself on a tight leash with Chas or he would sink his teeth in. His stomach rumbled, demanding some attention. He’d grab some food from the corner store while he waited.

 

*@*

 

They parked about a block from the police station and John jumped out before Chas could turn off the engine. He couldn’t sit in there a moment longer. The ride over had been marred with a pregnant silence and every time the angel had looked at him John wound himself a little tighter. A blanket of clouds had moved in, muting the afternoon sunlight, painting the street a misty gray. John took off towards the station, forcing his way through the stream of human traffic on the street. Chas ran to catch up with him. The angel walked beside him, his anxious silence as loud as a shout.

“So what did Angela say?” Chas asked.

“Not much,” John replied. He chanced a look at Chas from the corner of his eye. The frustration written all over the angel hit John with a bolt of guilt. He tried again. “She told me another body had dropped and asked me to meet her at work. That’s all I know.”

Chas nodded, but the tight frown on his face remained.

The precinct’s entrance came up on their right and John ushered Chas up the steps and through the open door. The place was in utter chaos. Ringing phones and shouted orders sounded from every direction. People swarmed in the aisles and hallways. An officer escorting a dazed looking man to the holding cells nearly plowed over John. He grabbed Chas’s arm pulling them both out of the way. Chas looked up at him.

“Is it always like this?”

“No, this is...unusual. Come with me.”

John took Chas’s hand, the angel’s soft palm fit naturally against his own. He lead them through the warren of desks and rooms until they came to a door with Angela’s name placard on the front. John opened it without knocking. He pushed Chas inside and shut the door behind them to quell the noise.

Angela didn’t look up. She sat at the desk, her pen scrawling furiously over the neat stack of paperwork in front of her. John took his usual seat in one of the threadbare chairs across the desk from her. He waited for Chas to join him but the angel hovered near the door, his arms crossed tight across his chest. He gave an inquiring look and motioned to the open seat but Chas ignored him. John shrugged his shoulders and turned back to Angela.

“Well we’re here,” John said.

Angela held up one finger while she finished her writing. She looked up and smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t want to lose my train of thought. Thanks for getting here so…” Her words trailed off and her eyes went wide when they lit on Chas.

John’s gaze flicked back and forth between them. Chas did his best to pretend not to notice Angela gaping at him but his body bristled like a porcupine. They were awfully tense for two people who has spent so little time together.

John cleared his throat. “So you found another body?”

Angela started, pressing her lips together. She searched through the stack of paperwork, yanking a large manilla folder from the stack and pushing it across the desk to John.

“Some poor old lady walking her dog in Griffith Park this morning found her after her dog ran off into the scrub and came back with a bloody muzzle.”

John opened the envelope and took out the stack of grisly crime scene photos. Immediately his stomach twisted. Jagged gashes and bite wounds covered her body but Asmodeus had left her face untouched, so his message would be received loud and clear.

“I know her,” John said, his voice rough.

“What?” Angela snapped.

“Not well. She worked for Lillith. I spoke to her yesterday.”

“Why were you at Lillith’s?” Chas asked, and John winced. The shock in the angel’s voice made him wish the ground would open up and swallow him.

“I went there to get information about who we’re going up against. She’s the one who told me it was Asmodeus.” John’s skin prickled, and he pushed down the persistent memory of what else the succubus had offered him.

Angela interrupted his thoughts. “Okay, I’m missing something. Who is Lillith? And who is Asmodeus?”

“Lillith is a succubus, she runs a brothel disguised as a coffee house. The girl in the pictures is one of hers.” John’s eyes scoured over the blood splashed scene. The feisty succubus who’d challenged him from behind the counter now laid pale and still upon the ground. “As for Asmodeus, he’s the incubus Elliot summoned.”

“Why do I get the feeling he’s not your average incubus?”

“Because he’s not. In Hell Lucifer is the head honcho but there are others with power, demon Kings who hold dominion over their personal brand of vilness. Greed, gluttony, pride, all sins have a patron demon. Asmodeus is the master of Lust,” Chas answered. John smiled, the angel knew his scripture.

“Of course he is.” Angela’s words were sharp with frustration. She rubbed her hand over her brows. “I don’t suppose this Lillith gave you anything useful? Like a weapon or a weakness to exploit.”

John shook his head. “I barely got the name out of her. Lillith and Asmodeus have some ugly history together. She’s afraid of him. After this,” John pointed to the photos, “I’ll be surprised if she ever speaks to me again.”

Angela looked up, the dark marks under her eyes growing more pronounced as she paled.

“John, did anyone see you there?”

“Yeah, why?”

“This scene felt different from Dr. Litchfield’s, darker, angrier. When I touched her the psychic backlash from the pain she endured gave me a nosebleed. He planned this, took his time to make it perfect. Before she died he told her she’d show them what happens to those who try to stand against him. Are you sure the warning is just for Lillith?”

John swallowed hard, his eyes drawn back to the pictures in his hand. Asmodeus had certainly done his best to make her suffer. A thick steel collar gleamed around her neck with metal rings soldered to the sides. A matching metal band encircled each wrist and ankle. The rings were affixed to metal stakes driven deep into the ground. A close-up shot of the spikes revealed runes carved into the metal, sealing them within the earth. She’d fought hard, her nails were broken and bloody where she had clawed Asmodeus and her struggles had churned up the dirt underneath her.

She looked so much like Elliot, laying naked everything but her face covered in tokens of Asmodeus’s rage. Ribbons of blood stained her skin and dripped down to congeal in the dirt. Dirt and blood matted her hair, which twisted around her head like a crown of snakes. Pity tugged at John’s heart. She hadn’t deserved this.

“What do you think of it Chas?” John said, holding the pictures out. Chas gave up his roost near the door and came to stand near John. He took the photos, flipping through them slowly. His mouth twisted in disgust.

“It’s theatrical, so it’s clear he wanted her to be seen. I get the sense he wanted to punish her. Maybe he wants to punish all of us.”

A disturbed silence fell over them. Chas put the pictures down, wiping his hands like holding them had made him dirty. John expected him to pull away but he stayed close, seeming to take comfort in being close to him. Angela watched them with avid interest. She rubbed her hands together and John wondered if she wanted to reach out and read him. He had to bite back a laugh, he’d probably welcome her help untangling his feelings about Chas. He put the photos back in the folder and handed it back to Angela.

“Has her murder been linked to Elliot’s?”

“If Asmodeus had any intention of flying under the radar, he failed. The similarities between the scenes were too obvious to be missed. Not to mention leaving his semen on both bodies.”

“John you need to be careful. If he kills again this becomes a serial killer investigation and then all bets are off. I can only protect you so much. They know I trust you enough to consult you but if you give them a reason they won’t hesitate to make you a suspect. I don’t have to remind you of your enemies in the department.”

John smirked, “I’ll be careful.”

The look on Angela’s face told him she wasn’t convinced. Angela opened her desk drawer and took out a small silver flash drive, handing it to John.

“I made you copies of everything I could. Don’t let anyone catch you with this or you’ll go to jail and I’ll get fired.”

John pocketed the flash drive. “You know I love bad girls.”

Angela laughed. Next to him Chas stiffened and when John looked over he’d clenched his jaw. John frowned, Chas had been perfectly fine in the car but the moment they got here he’d started acting like a sullen teenager. Constantine made a mental note to get to the bottom of Chas’s strange behavior the next time they were alone.

“John there’s one more thing,” Angela said

“What?”

“You saw the madhouse out there?” she asked, motioning to the closed door.

He nodded.

“It’s been like this all the time since we found your friend's body. I’d say it’s getting worse and I think our demon is responsible. You asked me to stay open and I have. The entire city feels dirty. Everywhere I go it’s like it’s oozing up out of the ground and even the normal people are sinking in it. The amount of sex crimes has quadrupled. It’s like these people can’t control themselves and when we bring them in for questioning they act like they’ve been brainwashed. They see nothing wrong with what they’ve done. We have to get rid of Asmodeus soon or he’s going to tear this city apart.”

“See I told you. He’s using his lust to affect the humans,” Chas said. He turned to Angela, speaking to her for the first time since they’d come here. “You need to be careful, from what I’ve seen he can act through his thralls so keeping them all locked up together is a bad idea. Even if they seem like zombies don’t let down your guard around them.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options Chas. They stay in holding till they are processed and sent to prison. Everywhere is overcrowded. I’ll do my best but it’s not like I can tell people they’re been influenced by a demon unless I want to end up in straight jacket.”

John’s mind kept running over something Angela had said. Everywhere I go it’s like it’s oozing up out of the ground. He’d felt the same thing at the nightclub and it had been even more pronounced at Elliot’s apartment, like Asmodeus left a psychic slime trail wherever he went. The spark of an idea flared within his mind.

“Angela do you think I could get access to her crime scene?”

“Not through any legal channels. Sorry John, but Weiss complained to the Chief after last time.”

“Well how hard do you think it would be to sneak in?”

Angela considered for a moment. “The scene itself has been left. The CSI’s took everything they needed, except for the stakes. They closed the trail and taped off the area until they can get an excavator in later this week. A couple patrol units are monitoring the park entrances and doing rounds but security isn’t tight. You could do it but you’d have to be careful. Why?”

John glanced up at Chas. “I’ve got an idea which might tell me where our demon king is hiding, but I need access to somewhere his energy is concentrated.”

Angela dug in her pile of paperwork again, pulling out a map of the park. Grabbing a red pen she marked the crime scene area as well as the points where the trail had been closed. She stood handing it to John.

“It’s the best I can do to help. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

John tried to look affronted but Angela shook her head.

“Thanks Angie.” John stood and walked around the desk, pulling Angela into a quick hug. “You’re the best.”

Angela kissed his cheek before shoving him away. “Alright, now shoo. I have a mountain of paperwork to try and finish before the next catastrophe hits.”

“We’re leaving. I’ll call you when I have some news,” John replied. He looked over and caught Chas watching them, his eyes bright and wounded. The angel turned away, stepping out into the hall. Angela had seen it too. They exchanged a curious glance before John took off after Chas. They made their way back towards the entrance.

Chas walked in front, his shoulders hunched defensively. John wanted to comfort him, he’d never liked seeing Chas in pain, but first they had to talk. The angel had accused him of burying all of his pain but clearly John wasn’t the only one with unresolved issues. Like Chas had said, better to get it all out in the open so the wounds of the past could start to heal.

John had to pull up short because Chas had stopped in the middle of the room, staring down the corridor toward the holding cells. The air down there built and rumbled like thunderheads, heavy and oppressive.

“Chas?”

“I can feel them down there. It’s too slimy to be anything else.”

The angel took a step toward the hall and John grabbed him before he could go any further.

“We’re going to help them. The best thing we can do for them is to destroy the source.”

Chas wavered before closing his eyes and turning back towards John.

“Okay,” he said, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’re coming with me to the scene right? I need to go home and get some supplies first.”

Chas looked up into his eyes, vulnerability laid bare on his features. John had the strongest urge to take the angel’s face in his hands. He held himself still with an iron will. Chas took another step towards him and he was acutely aware of the people swirling around them. Why was Chas looking at him like that? Sweat dampened his palms as he stood under Chas’s scrutiny. Finally the angel spoke.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”


	9. Thorns and Snares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas reveals a wound. And in Griffith park they find more than an abandoned crime scene waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First my apologies for the long wait between chapters, I moved last week and all my writing time got eaten up by packing and such. No specific warnings for this chapter. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 9: Thorns and Snares

 

 

Chas kept his eyes downcast, skirting past John who held open the door to the bowling alley. His feet lead him along the familiar path up to Constantine’s apartment. He hadn’t spoken to John since they left the precinct and the silence between them had grown taut and brittle.

“It’s unlocked,” John said when they reached his door.

Chas went inside, the floor creaking under his feet as he made his way to the kitchen and plopped down on one of the stools at the table. John followed him in and took the seat opposite him. He sat back and gave Chas an expectant look. Chas looked around the room, determined to ignore Constantine until he took the hint and went to get his stuff. His eyes lit on the recycle bin next to the refrigerator, several empty scotch bottles laid right on top. Chas snorted, some things never change.

“You can wipe the judgmental look off your face, because I poured those down the sink.”

Chas squinted at John out of the corner of his eye, trying to decide if he believed him.

“Why?”

“You were right, I was using it as a way to numb myself.”

“And?”

“And, I don’t want to be numb anymore.”

Chas met John’s eyes and what he saw in those dark depths made his stomach do a nervous little flip. Idiot, don’t read too much into it. The visit with Angela had left him raw, like an exposed nerve. Nothing like seeing the man you love with the woman who had replaced you. He had no right to be possessive. Whatever he had once been to John, he now had a very tenuous grasp on his place in Constantine’s life.

Still it infuriated him to have John keep him at arm's length when it was obvious they both wanted something more. His mind coughed up the image of John hugging Angela, and he flinched away.

John cleared his throat. “Alright, let's hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“Whatever’s been chewing on your ass since we got to the precinct.”

Chas’s mouth twisted into a sour scowl. Of course John wanted to poke at his sore spot. He hadn’t mastered the inhuman calm the other angel’s possessed. Maybe after a few centuries he’d learn to stop telegraphing every one of his emotions. He scrunched up his brow and rubbed his temples.

“There’s nothing to tell, John.”

“Then why are you sitting there all puffed up like an angry cat?” Constantine laughed.

Petty, jealous accusations burned at the back of Chas’s throat but he clamped his lips together tight.

John watched him closely, his face getting dark and serious. “You said you wanted to help me Chas.”

“What do you mean? Of course I do,” Chas sputtered.

“And I told you we had to do things my way.” Constantine leaned forward, slapping both hands on the table. “So spill.”

Chas took in the determined set of John’s features. The net had closed over him. Fine, if John wanted to talk they could talk!

“She bothers me.”

“Angela? Why?”

Chas continued like he hadn’t even heard John.

“The two of you together bother me.” He spat out the words, his palms slick with sweat. Why did John and Angela’s friendship get under his skin? Sure, feeling like Angela had taken his place hurt, but it didn’t explain the storm building inside him. Once again the image of John and Angela in her office bubbled up and the familiar intimacy of their interactions slapped him in the face. They’d slept together.

“Okay. You want to elaborate? Because I’m not sure I understand.” John sat back on his stool and frowned.

“You cut me out of your life John! All because I died helping you save her. Yet somehow she’s exempt. You didn’t punish her at all, in fact you two seem closer than ever. You seem like… like.” Chas choked on the word unable to say it. Lovers. Oily sickness churned in his gut. “I bet you didn’t even wait until after my funeral before you started fucking her.”

John blew out a long breath. He made no attempt to deny it and the knife in Chas’s chest twisted.

When John spoke, his voice was gentle. “Angela and I dated for a couple of months right after you passed away. We’d both lost people so it felt right to help each other through the grief. Eventually we realized we worked better as friends. There’s nothing romantic between us anymore but she is still very important to me. ”

Chas let the words wash over him. He should say something but the raw wave of emotion had emptied him out and he sat there like a wrung out washcloth. His heart cried out like a wounded animal. Chas shook himself. John had never been his, not in any concrete way, but having no right to his feelings didn’t stop them. It simply added shame and frustration to the mix.

“I’m not going to apologise for my love life.” John said.

Hot roses bloomed in Chas’s cheeks. He must be so transparent to John.

“But I never meant to hurt you, Chas. I didn’t push you away to punish you, if anything I wanted to protect you. I made shitty choices because I felt guilty. I don’t blame you for being mad at me, I have a lot to answer for, but it’s not Angela’s fault.”

“You’re right, you don’t owe me an apology. It’s just, you’ve replaced me with her. Now she’s the Robin to your Batman. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.”

Chas stood, needing a moment to collect the shredded remains of his dignity, but before he could step away John caught him. Constantine touched his chin, bringing his face up.

“You’re not replaceable Chas, not to me.”

For a second Chas thought John would kiss him but once again some invisible force held him back. When John let go of Chas’s chin he trailed a feather light touch along the side of his neck.

“You okay?” John asked

“Yeah I’m fine.” Maybe not the whole truth, but close enough for now.

“I’m going to grab my stuff and then we can head over to Griffith park.” John said, his smile casual. Fire burned in the depths of his dark eyes though and Chas nodded, not trusting his voice. He held it together until John disappeared into his room and then the breath he’d been holding came out in a rush. The stool he’d vacated was a welcome friend as Chas sat down hard. Somehow he’d find a way through to John.

 

 

*@*

 

 

Twilight’s fingers trailed soft purple streaks across the sky when John and Chas arrived at Griffith Park. Summer’s warmth had lasted into fall and much of the red and gold foliage still clung to the trees. The November wind had a chill to it though and Chas tugged his jacket tighter when he stepped out of his cab. Everything looked beautiful on the surface but he could feel the sickening tendrils of unwelcome lust against his skin. There were several other cars in the lot they had pulled into, but Chas wondered if crowds were down because of the murder. John pulled a black leather satchel out of the back seat and they headed toward the entrance. A uniformed officer stood near the entrance surveying the people coming and going. He gave John and Chas more than a once over but let them in without incident.

“It’s because you insist on dressing like a mortician,” Chas muttered under his breath.

"Come on Chas, you know you like what you see."

Chas stumbled on the path, unsure if the hot rush in his veins came from John or the demon’s aura. The gravel and dry leaves crunched under their feet as they hiked up toward the spot they had picked to go off trail. With every step the throbbing intensity in the air grew more pronounced, settling like a weight in Chas’s belly. He tugged his pants away from the embarrassing hardness between his legs. Clearing his throat, he tried to distract himself by focusing on their mission.

“So what do you plan to do once we get there?”

John lifted the flap on his bag and reached inside. He pulled out a long silver chain with a smooth teardrop pendant hanging at the end. The smoky quartz glistened, reflecting the deepening colors of the sky.

“Asmodeus is a slug, leaving his mark wherever he goes. You feel it right?”

Chas nodded.

“The energy seems to concentrate whenever he stays in one place for a while. I want to use it as a focus. If I hold the pendulum over a map of the city it should point me to the highest concentration of his energy, hopefully revealing Asmodeus's lair. Once we know where he’s hiding we can find a way to send him back to Hell where he belongs.” John chuckled. “Plus, cops are idiots. They always leave the good stuff behind, so we may get lucky.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Chas’s mouth. John grabbed his sleeve, pulling him over toward a large oak tree at the left edge of the trail. When they reached the trail’s edge Constantine cast a furtive look up and down the trail to make sure they were alone.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

They crept around the tree, moving quickly until the path disappeared behind them. Within minutes the oak and walnut grove began to thin out, leaving them trudging through the chaparral. The wind blowing toward them carried a faint trace of sulfur which wrinkled Chas’s nose. Asmodeus’s taint hung thick in the air and Chas couldn’t help but breathe it in, making his head light and his groin heavy.

After ten minutes of hiking they came upon a thick grove of shrubs. John stopped short, beckoning Chas over to him. As he approached, Chas picked up a faint flush creeping along John’s neck and over his cheeks. John set a hand against his upper arm. Chas leaned closer than necessary, unable to deny the storm of excitement churning inside him. John bent down to whisper in his ear, the touch of soft lips against his sensitive flesh made him gasp.

“The scene is up ahead, beyond these shrubs.” John pointed to the yellow tape staked around the clearing a few feet in front of them. “Before we get to work can you check to be sure we're alone? I’d hate for you to have to bail me out of jail if we get caught.”

“Again, you mean?” Chas teased, flashing John a cheeky smile. His courage surged along with his arousal and he took advantage of their proximity. One little sway brought his lips achingly close to John’s. The hand on his arm tightened brutally for a second before John let go and stepped back, laughing.

“Guess you’ve got me there.”

“Do I?” Chas asked, and desire crackled like a force of nature between them. John flushed even harder. Chas enjoyed watching John sweat but his conscience forced him to pull back. They hadn’t come out here to flirt in the woods after all. “I’ll be right back.”

John nodded and slung his bag to the ground. Chas extended his wings and pushed himself into the air. The park stretched out below him. His eyes were drawn to the singed scar in the grass where Asmodeus had killed the succubus. The police had taped off a wide perimeter and Chas scoured the area from the sky. There was no sign of anyone lurking nearby but an eerie quiet had settled over the area. Chas came down after a few more minutes made him sure no one would be happening upon them.

“It’s safe,” he said. John looked up from where he crouched over his bag, a map and a flashlight in his hands. The pendulum hung around his neck, the quartz shining against his white shirt.

“Do you want a flashlight?” he asked

“Um, sure.”

John held out the light in his hand and Chas took it. He clicked it on, the beam illuminating the murky ground in front of him. They crept along through the shrubs until they hit the barrier of crime scene tape. John lifted it with the back of his hand and Chas darted underneath. Char and sludge covered the churned-up ground and Chas found he had trouble swallowing. He could see the furrows where the girl had been dragged to the obsidian stakes. They gleamed like wet ink against the ground.

“Wait here,” John said.

Chas nodded. Constantine slipped past him, stepping carefully as he scoured the ground for anything the police might have left behind. Chas’s nipples were rock hard and rubbing against the fabric of his shirt, matching the undeniable tingling between his legs. He wiped his hand over the sweat beading on his forehead. A strange persistent pressure traveled up from the soles of his feet, almost like someone had stroked their hands up his body. A bright kernel of anxiety burst to life in his gut. An unsettling black pall descended over the ground where they stood. John’s silhouette began to melt into the darkness and Chas had the sudden premonition if he lost sight of John he would never see him again. He lurched forward. He had to keep John in sight.

“John?”

“I’m right here.” Constantine’s calm voice helped to steady him, but Chas couldn’t shake the dread creeping through his veins. By the time he reached John the exorcist stood in the center of the stakes, laying the map out over the dirt. Chas inched as close as he could without getting in the way, his head swiveling from side to side. The night stood calm and still around them, not a leaf out of place. A faint hum reached him though, making his body tight.

“Scared of the dark?” John asked, not glancing up from his work. He’d laid the map flat and now proceeded to make little symbols in the corners. Chas hovered, wondering if he should voice his concern. What could he say? A bad feeling wasn’t much to go on. So he watched in silence, all senses keyed up.

John pulled the pendulum chain over his neck, holding it straight over the center of the map while he muttered soft words into the night. The sensation of being touched came over Chas again and he whirled around finding only empty air. His wings flared out behind him and he drew on his power, it’s warmth rushing under his skin.

When he turned back John’s brow furrowed in concentration while he slowly swung the pendulum over the surface of the map. The little quartz began to swing wildly, like it had been caught in a whirlpool and John cursed. The hum in Chas’s ears grew louder.

“John,” he said, but Constantine made no reply. He’d had enough though, something was wrong and he was getting John out of here right this second. He took two steps and then a shot of raw lust hit him so hard his joints turned to water and he collapsed in the dirt. For a long moment all he could think about was fucking and he had to dig his hands into the dirt to keep from touching himself. He gasped, pulling cold air into his lungs, trying to keep himself from sinking under the dark tide.

“Chas what’s wrong?” John still held the swirling pendulum. Before Chas could answer the chain snapped with a metallic clink and they both watched in horror as the pendulum landed upright, the tip centered directly over Griffith park. John jumped to his feet and Chas managed to cry out.

“We’re not alone here.”


	10. Chapter 10: Mark of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Chas find themselves face to face with Asmodeus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. First, reader beware because there are some content warnings for this chapter: Non-consensual sexual contact and choking. I am stoked at how quickly this chapter's edits came together and I hope to get the next one out asap. Hope you all are enjoying and as always, thank you for reading!

Chapter 10: Mark of the Beast

 

 

John’s prey instincts kicked in as the meaning of Chas’s words lit up his brain. The angel still crouched on the ground, hunched in on himself like he’d been kicked in the stomach. Chas whimpered and the wanton noise sucked the moisture from John’s mouth. The pendulum bored through the map, the paper tearing with a soft sound. The quartz stayed upright, spinning slowly, burrowing into the very ground they stood on. John scanned the clearing. When had it gotten so dark? Residual lust lay caked over the area but something infinitely more dangerous had snuck in while he wasn’t paying attention and it closed around them with a vice grip.

“Chas what’s going on? Are you alright?” he whispered.

The answer slithered out of the dark. A low laugh, freezing the blood in Constantine’s veins. Sweat broke out over his entire body. He flashed back to the night Chas had shown up outside his door. _You let me know when you want to do more than stare_. A stick snapped behind him.

“John,” Chas cried out in a choked whisper.

“Yes, John Constantine.” The dark, sibilant voice flicked against his ears like a forked tongue. Footsteps crackled over the ground, circling to the right. John drew himself up straight, hand immediately going to the brass knuckles in his pocket. The demon stepped into his view and John sucked in his breath. He appeared both more and less human than John had been expecting. Looking at him felt sexual, every cell in Asmodeus’s body designed to make others quiver with desire. But it was a costume, a beautiful mask which could be torn aside at any moment to reveal the drooling monster underneath. He prowled between John and Chas, controlling his big body with predatory grace. His living coal eyes bored into Constantine.

“I wanted to see you again, John. The last time left me so unfulfilled.” A cruel smile spread across his sensual, ageless face.

“Funny, I wanted to see you again too.”

John pulled his hand from his pocket, clenching the weapon in front of his chest.

“Yes, I bet you did,” Asmodeus said, his gaze sliding to where Chas crouched. “You don’t think a flimsy piece of metal is going to frighten me, do you?”

The threat hung in the air and Chas cried out again. He arched up like someone had jerked on his strings, his hands scrabbling at the fastening on his pants. The material fell open, and Chas palmed his erection. The panic on the his face made John’s stomach harden.

“Stop it,” John snarled.

“Jealous? Throw your silly little weapon down and I’ll let him go. Then again you could always enjoy the show. He is beautiful.”

Chas panted and whined, rubbing himself fiercely. John’s own erection had become a monstrous, painful throbbing in his pants. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like for Chas. He clenched his jaw and yanked the brass off his hand, flinging it away into the grass.

“Good boy,” Asmodeus purred. He took a step back and disappeared before John’s eyes. Chas crumpled to the ground and John cried out.

“Chas!”

John sprang toward the angel when a sudden sharp pressure between his shoulders brought him up short. The drilling pressure moved up his spine along with a rush of heat as a body materialized against his back. Large arms came around John, locking him in a steel grip. Asmodeus’s touch burned like a brand and John yelped. He tried to break free but quick as lightning the demon’s right hand shot to his throat. Claw-like nails pricked his jugular. Asmodeus scented up John’s neck, dabbing his tongue in the sweat along his hairline.

“Mmm, you taste exquisite.”

John shuddered. A thin rivulet of blood trailed down his neck onto his his shirt, in tiny pinpricks of crimson. He’d never been harder in his entire life. He had to touch himself, he would go mad if he didn’t. But Asmodeus kept his arms pinned tight against his heaving sides. They’d been in contact for less than a minute and already John felt ready to kneel down and beg for it.

“Let him go,” Chas said. He once again had his feet under him and he faced them, wings out, a look of murderous rage on his face.

“Silly bird, the fun has only just begun.”

The demon’s baritone voice rumbled along John’s back when he spoke. Without warning the hand on his throat squeezed and a roar of blood filled his ears as he tried to breath. Then just as quick, Asmodeus loosened his grip and the burst of oxygen sent pleasure careening through John’s body, making him cry out.

“You intrigue me John. From what I heard about you I expected to find a crusader, but your conviction appears to have waned. Has knowing your own soul is safe removed the impetus for your good deeds? Or perhaps have you discovered a darkness of your own?”

“You’ve got it all wrong.” John’s voice came out in a harsh rasp. “I’m the big gun. I’ve graduated to the serious douche-bags and you have my name written all over you.”

The demon gave a deep-throated laugh. “So you say.”

Hot breath puffed against his ear and throat and John bristled. Asmodeus’s face hovered in his peripheral vision. John’s eyes sought Chas. Once he had the angel’s attention he shot a meaningful look towards the grass where he thrown the brass knuckles. Chas gave a slight nod and began to inch over the ground. With each step John’s heart stuttered.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Asmodeus chided and Chas went rigid, his eyes rolled up inside his skull. The muscles in the angel’s body bunched and corded, and he twitched like he’d been hit with a large jolt of electricity.

“John, I’m disappointed in the company you’re keeping.”

Constantine thrashed in the demon’s grip but he had no hope against Asmodeus’s strength.

“Let him go.”

Asmodeus ignored him. “Those who rise are always so dutiful but the truth is they are closer to winged rats than true angels.”

Chas gave a horrible gurgle and fell to his knees.This couldn’t be happening again. He couldn’t be helpless again. Every part of John’s being demanded he do something to protect Chas. Bile rose in the back of his throat but he forced it down. He leaned his head back, baring his neck in an obvious gesture of submission. His body followed suit, the tension draining from him through a sheer act of will. It worked, Asmodeus turned to him, drawn in by his sudden acquiesce. Constantine went deeper, pushing his hips back into the hot body behind him, creating a feverish rush along his back.

Asmodeus growled and brought his left hand to the collar of John’s shirt, tearing it down the middle with a rough jerk. Buttons flew off in all directions, and the air tickled mercifully cold fingers over John’s heated skin. Asmodeus laid his hand on John’s chest, his touch scorching and possessive. John trembled, unable to stop himself from pressing into the touch. He kept his eyes on Chas though. The angel’s body had relaxed, his head slumped against his chest. Come on Chas, say something! Let me know you’re okay.

“Look at me,” Asmodeus demanded.

John turned his head, wincing as the claws scraped over his skin. Asmodeus’s long bone-blonde hair tickled his cheek. The demon’s eyes glowed so hot they were tinged red. Asmodeus leaned in, running his tongue over John’s bottom lip. His mind screamed at him to pull away but John’s mouth fell open, inviting the monster inside.

“Get your hands off of him or I will break every last one of your fingers.”

Asmodeus laughed.

John shot Chas a dark look, he hadn’t offered himself up so Chas could stick his ass right back in the fire.

“Stay back,” he warned.

“You waste your breath protecting him. He’s already dead. What awaits him is to return to where he belongs. You should be worried about your own skin,” Asmodeus said, trailing his claws down John’s chest. Dark red welts sprang up in the wake of his touch.

A surge of pleasure laced pain tore a gasp from Constantine. His knees wobbled and for a moment, Asmodeus’s arms kept him from falling. He wanted Chas to leave. It would destroy him if Chas got hurt again because of him. But one look at Chas’s stone-set face convinced John of his determination. John had been a fool to come here unprepared. He’d gone soft over the last two years if he’d underestimated a monster like Asmodeus. So now they had to find a way to get free, John had no illusions they could end Asmodeus tonight. They’d be lucky to escape with minor wounds but he couldn’t allow himself to see any other outcome. They were going to get away. Asmodeus pinched his nipple and John let out a rather indecent noise. All the blood in his body had begun to migrate between his legs and a soft buzz filled John’s ears.

“Do you like it when I touch you? I could give you so much more than this.”

“There’s nothing you could offer him but lies and death,” Chas spit out.

“You have one uppity mouth. I bet we could find a better use for it, don’t you John?” Asmodeus cupped John’s erection through his pants, making his meaning clear. To John’s horror his dick responded, throbbing hard in anticipation. A lupine grin turned up the corners of Asmodeus’s mouth.

“Come closer little bird, come see how he tastes.”

Chas flinched, before lurching forward as though he’d been lassoed. Primal hatred welled up inside John. He would never allow Asmodeus to force him and Chas into a sick parody of something so close to his own fantasies. He brought his foot back sharply, in a savage kick. His heel connected with hard bone and Asmodeus let out a startled grunt. John snatched his opportunity and wrenched against the demon’s hold with all his strength. He caught Asmodeus off guard and managed to get his left arm free. With no weapons, he reached back with his bare hands to claw at Asmodeus's eyes. Quick as a viper though the hand at his neck crushed his windpipe. John’s hand dropped to the vice on his throat, scrabbling in vain to stop the slow gray fog creeping in from the corners of his vision. Asmodeus lifted his feet off the ground and John flailed in his grip like a hooked fish, spinning down the drain toward a slow black oblivion.

Chas sprang forward, wings and eyes flashing, looking like a fierce little hawk. Asmodeus shifted John in front of his body like a shield.

“Back off you pious dog, or I’ll rip the head right off your precious human.”

Chas pulled himself up short, but didn’t move back.

“Look at you, all ready to start a holy war over this man. Does he know how you feel about him?”

Chas flushed and Asmodeus snorted. The grip on John’s throat loosened, allowing him enough air to remain conscious but not enough to catch his breath. He coughed and sputtered.

“You shouldn’t invest your affections in a human. They are capricious and cruel. It’s best to treat them as what they are: toys.” John found himself pulled back, molded against the demon’s body. Asmodeus reached beneath the waistband of his pants, taking John’s erection in a possessive grip. The strokes were too rough to feel good, but to his pleasure starved body it came as water to a man dying of thirst. “Do you want to be my toy John? Your body certainly seems to enjoy being played with.”

“No thanks, asshole,” John ground out, his teeth clenched shut tight. “I’ve seen the way you treat your toys.”

“You think they deserved better?” Asmodeus asked, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. “I am the Master of lust, the succubus was mine to do with as I pleased. As for Elliot, he was no innocent, he deserved worse than he got. I find it infuriating that humankind’s own bad behavior is excused, even forgiven, while you condemn beings you can’t hope to comprehend as pure evil. Yet still we spend our time fighting over your miserable souls like dogs fight over scraps of meat. We were made to rule and you were made to serve, anything else is a perversion of nature.”

“Your words reek of bitterness,” Chas taunted.

Asmodeus snarled. “Don’t you dare speak to me of bitterness, God soldier! I have suffered the callousness of humanity. I have seen enough to know there is no hope for good in such a flawed creation. The Old Serpent can cling to his ridiculous treaty but I will do what I was born to do. The humans are ripe and ready to be plucked, already they are succumbing to my influence in droves. Lust is a defect of the species which I can exploit until they are nothing but mindless animals. Who is going to stop me? You? The angels? None of you have the ruthlessness to act before it is too late. Even now you are helpless to stop me because you know I hold his life in my hands.”

The demon swiped his fingers over the tip of John’s cock before bringing them up to his face, licking the slick pre-come off of them.

“Chas-” John started, but Asmodeus squeezed his throat and returned to stroking him with fierce determination. John thrust into his fist, his body giving itself over to its new Master. He began to tremble, closing in on his climax. He fought it, tearing into his cheek with his teeth but even pain and blood couldn't distract him from Asmodeus.

“I think you’ll find we won’t concede the humans to you so easily,” Chas replied. The angel bent down and grabbed a sharp stone. He clenched it in his fist, the look on his face left no doubt of his desire to rip Asmodeus apart.

“What are you going to do with that? Throw it at me.”

Chas said nothing. He laid the sharp edge of the stone against his wrist, slicing downward with a quick jerk. Blood welled out, spilling over his skin onto the dirt. Asmodeus tensed, the hand on John’s cock freezing mid-stroke. Constantine hissed at the ache of unsatisfied pleasure.

“You should consider my offer John. I will destroy any who stand against me, but if you become mine, I will give you more pleasure than you can imagine.” Asmodeus whispered before he struck, sinking his jewel-like teeth into the flesh where John’s neck met his shoulder. John screamed.

Chas’s voice boomed in the clearing. “By blood I bind you, evil spirit, and command you to flee. I command the land to renounce and reject you. By faith I take this land back, and sanctify it for our Heavenly Father.” He flung his wrist forward spraying his blood in a wide arc. Several drops splattered in the dirt surrounding John and Asmodeus.

Asmodeus swore in the guttural language of Hell. John cried out again, corruption spreading into his blood from the demon’s filthy mouth. Asmodeus yanked his hands away from John, his teeth pulling free as John collapsed without the support. His vision began to tilt and gray, and the ground met him hard, knocking the air from his lungs.

The earth beneath them responded to Chas’s command, violently rejecting the demon, and pain tinted Asmodeus’s voice as he threw out one last threat before fleeing into the night.

“Now you’ll know how it feels to burn.”

Time slowed to a crawl, John’s limbs responding slow as molasses to his commands. He managed to lift his head for a second before the curse began to burn its way through his body. John went limp and struggled to stay conscious, expecting at any moment to be eaten alive by the demon’s corruption. He screamed into the dirt as a blinding wave of pain curled him into the fetal position. It passed and John braced for the inevitable follow up but the pain subsided into a low-level muscular ache.

Hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up and Chas knelt there in front of him, hauling John against his body to keep him from sliding back into the dirt. Chas’s lips were moving but John couldn’t make out the words over the ringing in his ears. Tentative fingers explored the bleeding edges of his bite wound. John whined and pulled away. Chas’s touch was ice against the molten heat of his skin. He stared up into Chas’s worried face and the last words Asmodeus’ had spoken echoed in his head like the tolling of a bell.


	11. Burnt Offering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds his control ravaged by Asmodeus's curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot! I got back to my two week posting schedule. Anyway there is a content warning for dubious consent in this chapter and I hope you like it cause things are starting to get hot.

Chapter 11: Burnt Offering

 

 

“John can you hear me?” Chas’s words were sharp and tinged with panic.

John’s shell shocked brain couldn’t manage a response. Instead he lurched away, trying to get his feet underneath him. The night-darkened landscape bled and swirled in front of him and he sunk back to his knees. Prickling heat shivered along his entire body leaving him raw and needy. He sucked in great gulps of air and waited for the other shoe to drop. The wound on his shoulder pulsed in time with his still erect cock.

"John please, I need you to talk to me," Chas begged.

“Chas I-” John started, but a tight coiling in his abdomen doubled him over. Asmodeus’s curse tainted every inch of him. The demon’s voice started as a faint whisper inside his skull, too indistinct to make out but it filled John with dread. With each second it grew louder and John clamped his hands over his ears to shut it out.

“No, no,” John moaned.

Chas knelt in front of him, hard lines of concern marring his soft face. He pulled John’s ruined shirt down his arms, exposing his wound. Blood oozed up from the teeth marks and the surrounding skin had become an angry red. Every brush of Chas’s ice cold fingers made John wince.

“It looks awful.” Chas mumbled. Chas touched John’s face but the dark whispers held him rapt. What had Asmodeus put inside him? A burst of pressure over his wound made John rear back, moaning and jerking.

“Oh, God,” John gasped. Little aftershocks of pleasure surged through him. Never in his life had pleasure hit him so hard. He stared at Chas who blinked, wide-eyed, at him, the remains of John’s shirt clutched in his hand.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to clean up the blood,” Chas said. The shirt dropped from his shaking hand. John took in Chas’s trembling body and a fresh wave of desire shot through him. This was bad.

_Are you burning yet, John?_

Asmodeus purred inside his skull, damning John. Sweat poured down his body. John’s pupils dilated, sucking in every scrap of light till he saw the world as a predator does. The scent of Chas’s body perfumed the air and John breathed deep. His cock stood heavy and proud between his legs.

“John?” Chas asked, and John picked up a quaver in his voice. Constantine said nothing, raking his eyes over every inch of Chas’s body. Chas shivered and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Come on, we should get you out of here. I’ll call Dr. Archer on the way to your apartment, I’m sure if I explain what happened she’ll make a house call.” Chas got to his feet, reaching out for John, his gaze straying to the angry red wound.

All of John’s senses devoured the angel in front of him while Asmodeus’s poison sang a siren’s song.

_Take him._

The dark voice scorched John. All his indecent, sinful desires for Chas forcing their way through his shattered control.

_Why should you hold back? You know he wants it. Fuck him. Submit to lust._

John’s cock drooled in his pants.

Chas did want him. The angel had made no attempt to hide his feelings. His dark eyes fell on Chas’s soft, perfect mouth. Petal pink lips parted with Chas’s breath but John had a better way to occupy them. He sprang forward, snatching a hunk of brown hair. He drug Chas against his chest and slammed their mouths together. Chas yelped and John answered by pushing his tongue into his mouth. At first Chas went rigid but within seconds he melted against John’s body.

When John had tasted every inch of Chas’s mouth he let him go. Chas gasped for air and John nibbled along his lower lip and jaw. The moon rose above the treeline, hanging in the night sky like a shiny silver coin. Chas’s wings drank up its glowing light. John nuzzled down Chas’s neck, worrying the thin flesh with his teeth. Chas whimpered and John answered with a growl.

“John, what’s going on?” Chas said.

Constantine grabbed Chas and ground their hips together, letting Chas feel his rampant arousal. His body made his intentions perfectly clear. Chas shuddered and kissed him again. Their teeth clacked together as John erased any remaining space between their bodies. John pulled back on Chas’s hair and he submitted, opening like a flower. He drank up every drop of Chas’s sweetness. When he was sure Chas had no resistance left, he pulled back.

“I want to fuck you,” he said, shoving Chas to the ground. Constantine lowered his body to cover the angel’s, using his knee to pry Chas’s legs apart. Another wave of prickling heat seared over John and he grabbed Chas’s hands, putting them on the waistband of his pants. “I know you want to touch me.”

Chas’s mouth fell open. “I do but...please, talk to me. Are you okay?”

Some deeply buried part of John knew he wasn’t okay but the fire inside had grown too large to fight and Chas’s worries only infuriated him. John let out an impatient snort. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to fuck. He bit down hard on Chas’s shoulder. Chas cried out and John soothed the spot with his tongue.

“I’ll be okay when I get your hands on my cock.”

Chas shuddered in response and scrambled to get John’s zipper down. John’s pants fell open and his dick strained against his underwear, sensing its impending freedom. An obscene wet spot darkened the fabric and the thick scent of John’s arousal spread in the air around them. Chas reached out and ran his fingers up John’s shaft. John moaned, his head tilting back as every nerve in his body lit up. But as quick as it began the pleasure stopped. John snapped his head back and Chas sat still, his hand hovering inches above John’s groin. A spatter of blood had dripped from John’s bite and landed on the back Chas’s hand. Chas swallowed hard and pulled his hand back, a pained look in his soft eyes.

“I can’t do this.”

"Don't stop." John snatched Chas’s hand back and pressed it over his dick. He rubbed himself against Chas’s palm and groaned. "Not when it feels so good."

"Believe me, I don’t want to. But John we need to take care of you first." Chas’s voice dripped regret. John ignored him, continuing to use Chas’s hand to stroke himself. Asmodeus polluted his mind, his curse so potent John realized he lacked the strength to stop, not with Chas here in front of him. John let out a low whine and Chas looked up at him.

“Chas, please.”

Did he mean for Chas to stop him or submit? John had changed from a civilized man into a beast being driven mad with lust. Chas’s face softened and he nodded. He closed his eyes and wrenched away, scrambling to put some distance between himself and John.

The pain came immediately. Millions of incandescent needles pierced John’s skin and he grit his teeth to keep from howling. The pain gave John an opening and he fought back against Asmodeus’s whispers, clawing his way out of the fog of animalistic sexual impulses.

_You can’t win John._

He couldn’t but he could fight and for the moment he had control of himself again.

"God dammit! What did the bastard do to me?"

"I don’t know." Chas said reaching for him. "Here, take my hand. Let’s get you home and we’ll figure it out from there."

"Stay away from me." Asmodeus still goaded him, the dark voice commanding John to force Chas back down and and mark him with his come. He held onto control with the most tenuous grasp.

_It’s not going to stop John. Even if you fuck him. Even if you fuck a hundred people. Only I can give you true relief._

Never going to happen, John snapped inside his head. He hauled himself to his feet. A heady potion of chemicals swirled inside his blood. Pain lanced through him again and he bit down in his hand to keep from crying out. He glanced at Chas for only a second before he tore his eyes away. Chas had never looked more seductive, his mouth bruised and swollen from kissing coupled with the obvious hardness at the apex of his legs. Too much, yet not enough. A large part of John wanted to give in, to take what he wanted and tell himself he hadn't had a choice.

"John you need help. I can feel the taint inside you. It’s getting stronger."

Chas spoke the truth. With each passing minute John had to fight harder to keep from being pulled under again. He had to get away from Chas. Now.

Chas came towards him again, stopping when John cringed away. "We can’t stay here,” he pleaded.

God! even Chas's voice made Constantine want to fuck him. He stood no chance of fighting this cursed desire with the man he wanted for so long standing right within his reach. Asmodeus’s curse was potent. If he lost control again there would be no stopping him.

"Chas you have to get away from me. This thing he put inside me...I don't know how much longer I can reign it in. It's taking everything I have just to warn you."

"You honestly expect me to leave you like this?"

"Yes I do."

“You can barely stand. How are you going to get home?” Chas’s face flushed as he spoke “I get it. I know what it feels like, he did it to me too. I’m not mad at you John. What we did..well anyway, we can talk about it later. Right now we need to take care of you."

John let out an anguished noise. His voice rough and low, "When I lose control you know what I'll do to you. I don't want to hurt you."

"Why do you think you’d be hurting me?”

John didn’t respond. Chas had to stop talking. John would shatter if Chas told him he wanted it.

Chas swallowed. “I think I’ve made my feelings pretty clear John. Even if you did lose control, it’s not like you’d be forcing me to do something I don’t want to do.”

"Dammit Chas listen to me! This isn't how it's going to happen between us. I'm not giving you another option. I’ll get myself out of here."

Chas flinched, his face paling. He hardened before John’s eyes and an infinitely more tender pain erupted inside him. It kept coming back to this, no matter how much he cared for Chas, he hurt him.

_Love is nothing but pain John_ , Asmodeus taunted. _Lust will set you free._

Chas pulled his attention back. He’d closed in on John and once again the smell of his body rushed up John’s nostrils.

"What is your problem? You need to face the truth, you’re never going to be in control of everything. You keep toeing this line you've laid out for us but I never agreed to it." He shoved the keys to his cab against John’s chest.

John lost himself at Chas’s touch and he leaned down, kissing him again. But Chas pushed away, anger flushing his cheeks. "Heaven forbid you do something we both want you to."

John whimpered as Chas stepped back. The angel’s wings beat hard and the air rushed around them as he lifted off. When Chas disappeared from his sight the pain surged again. John’s whole body shook with the force of it. His movements were stiff as he bent down to grab the map and pendant. He had to get home and call Midnite. His old friend would know what to do.

 

*@*

 

John sagged against the door to his apartment. He remembered nothing about how he got home, except the pain. Focus eluded him, his mind sinking further and further into a feverish daze. He checked his phone for the millionth time. Damn Midnite. Whatever the asshole was doing tonight, he had no excuse for not calling John back. His hand went to his pants, undoing them with an unconscious movement. He needed to touch himself. He'd removed Chas as a temptation but his body still demanded stimulation. A trail of clothes dotted the way as he stumbled back towards his bedroom. Once inside he set his phone on the nightstand so he could find it if it rang and fell into the rumpled sheets.

John started slow, sliding his hand down his chest and running his fingers through the dark curls at the base of his penis. He'd never been one to romanticize the need for release before but he felt sensual and erotic tonight. How could it hurt so much and yet feel so good? The pain amplified the pleasure until it was almost orgasmic. His breath came in soft little gasps. When he ran his fingers up the shaft he let out a long moan. But it wasn't the same, his own fingers were mere candlelight compared to the inferno of having Chas touch him.

_Let me give you what you want. Come to me and I will make you melt with pleasure._

The whispers tormented him. Each one crashing against him like a wave on the shore. Eroding a bit more each time. He bit his lip and focused on jerking off.

He stroked long and slow to avoid over-stimulation. His free hand spreading rough caresses over his body. Frustration built inside him. He was beyond aroused and yet he couldn’t intensify the feelings. He reached between his legs, tugging hard on his testicles.

"Ah fuck." His hips jerked up into his hand and a steady stream of fluid dribbled from his tip. He used his thumb to spread it over the head. He closed his eyes and pictured himself ramming into Chas, the angel spread out underneath him. His groin tightened and he sped up, desperate to come.

His cock spasmed, all his muscles tight but he couldn't topple over the final crest.

Asmodeus gave a hideous chuckle. _Did you think relief would come so easy?_

John reached up and buried his fingers in his hair. This couldn't be happening. Sweat soaked sheets stuck to his flushed body and he trembled, hovering on the edge of orgasm. How could he have been so stupid? Asmodeus had cursed him, and the demon's poison would kill him if he didn’t give in. The pain, the fever, the desire, they were driving him mad. Without relief he would end up having to be put down like a rabid dog. He rolled over, hissing as his over sensitive dick brushed the sheets. Midnite hadn't called back but John had to act now.

Who could help him? Who had the power to counteract Asmodeus’s filth. When the idea came he pushed it down but his brain was too stubborn to let squeamishness get the best of him. He grabbed his phone, his hands shaking so bad it took him three times to dial the number correctly. He must be out of his mind to think she would help him but he had so few options.

The line rang twice before A woman answered. John peeled his tongue off the roof of his mouth.

"It’s Constantine. I need to talk to Lillith. Tell her it’s an emergency. Tell her I’m ready to stop running." Fire lashed over his skin and he lowered his head into one hand.

_The Harlot is weak and fearful. Salvation lies with me._

The hold went on for an eternity. John sat rigid, unable to think about what he would do if she refused.

“Give me one good reason not to hang up this phone right now.” Lillith snapped as soon as she picked up the line.

“I pulled your ass out of the fire, now I need you to do the same for me.”

She said nothing for a long time.

“Do you honestly think he’ll leave you alone? If you let me die there will be no one to stand against him.”

“Fine, get here and I’ll see what I can do.” She hung up without another word.

Relief made John’s eyes water. He scrambled out of bed, rushing to grab his clothes. The pants came first and John winced as he closed his erection back up. His hands were shaking too much for the buttons of his shirt so he left it hanging open. The keys to Chas’s cab shined where he’d dropped them on the floor. Guilt churned inside him as he picked them up. Somehow when this was over he would make Chas understand.

He flung the door open and nearly plowed over Angela. Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance, the demonic presence inside him smashing against her psychic sense.

"Jesus John, what is that?" she gasped, shrinking away from him.

"Angela I'll explain later." He slammed the door and started down the hall. He had to keep moving. Already his body flared with an unwelcome awareness of their sexual history.

"Wait, where are you going?" She caught his hand, jerking away immediately.

He stopped and turned back. She rubbed her hand like touching him had burned her. Every second he stayed hot knives raked over his skin and he pressed his head against the wall, trying to keep from ravishing her.

"What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"I can't do this right now." His voice came out with a hysterical crack. "I'm having a bit of a crisis as you can see. I promise I'll explain everything later but right now I have to go." He pushed away from the wall and took off, refusing to look back when she called his name again.


	12. Who Can Stand Before Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas decides to track down John and finds an unlikely ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rockin out two chapters on schedule so I feel like a boss. No specific warnings for this chapter. I really appreciate all who have been reading this story. This is my first venture in writing a novel length story and I am grateful to have so many to share this journey with me.

Chapter 12: Who Can Stand Before Envy

 

 

Chas stormed down the street towards John’s apartment. After leaving John at the park he’d flown around in the starlit dark, giving both of them some time to cool off. Mostly he’d been cursing John and cursing himself. Constantine thought he had to handle everything on his own, but Chas had discovered persistence pays off in the fight against John’s ridiculous insistence on self-reliance. When he got to Constantine’s apartment it would be John’s turn to listen.

The bowling alley came into view as he turned the corner. The leagues were getting out and a large crowd stood on the sidewalk chatting. Chas pushed past them and went inside. Few bowlers remained inside and the hollow pounding of Chas’s footsteps echoed around the room. By the time he reached John’s floor Chas had gnawed his lower lip to shreds. He approached John’s door and took a slow deep breath. He had no idea what to say, but his plans had a way of falling apart around John so he wasn’t going to let it stop him.

He wiped his palm on his pants and gave the wooden door a sharp rap. One thing John has said earlier kept forcing a squirmy, hopeful feeling to well up inside of him.

_This isn't how it's going to happen between us._

Those words told Chas he had been right to come here because on some level John wanted them to be together.

The silence stretched on for so long Chas raised his hand to knock again when shuffling footsteps approached the door. What condition would John be in? The memory of how hot John’s cock had been in his hands made him shudder. The chain lock pulled free with a metallic scrape and the door cracked open. The pale face peering out at him made Chas’s mind jerk to a halt.

"Chas? But I thought… sorry, can I help you?”

Angela’s voice lodged in Chas’s chest like a javelin. He swallowed hard past the sudden lump working it’s way up his throat. Of course John called Angela, didn’t he always? It made sense he would turn to the person he trusted the most. John had tried to tell him he had the situation handled and as usual Chas had heard what he’d wanted and charged over here like an idiot. Angela’s needle-like gaze pierced him and Chas knew he looked like a fool, standing there gaping at her. The muscles around his mouth were so tight it made it hard to speak.

“I wanted to come and check on John, make sure he’s okay.”

Angela gave him a strange look but she quickly recovered her manners.

“Well John’s… um." She fumbled, turning to glance back into the apartment.

The door fell open and Chas straightened like he’d been struck. How could he have been so stupid? Her messy hair and tousled clothes revealed exactly the kind of help she’d been giving John. They must have been in bed together when Chas knocked.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. Please excuse me.” He turned and bolted down the hall. Tossing aside the remaining shreds of his dignity in favor of getting away before his composure crumbled around him. John had sent him a clear message by having her answer the door. Behind him Angela called his name but he ignored her and plowed on down the stairs.

His mind rebelled and an intense burning in his eyes made his vision watery. Why did John go to her? If he needed sex, why hadn’t John taken him? Chas had made it obvious he wanted John. How could John kiss him, touch him, beg to fuck him and then run away from him and straight into Angela’s arms? Chas tripped over the last stair but refused to slow down. He wanted to get as far away from here as possible. He raced to the glass door, grabbing the handle when Angela’s voice called out to him again.

“Chas, please wait.”

What could she possibly want? John didn’t want or need Chas’s help so why had she chased him down? Forget it. Whatever cruel game she and John were playing he wanted no part of it. He left without looking back.

The fresh air did nothing to stop the places he and John had touched from burning in a searing reminder of his own weakness. He’d been a simpering little puppy, lapping it up every time John gave him any affection. Well he was done pissing himself with gratitude over the scraps of John’s threw him. Asmodeus was bigger than his personal feelings and he would see it through till the end but the time had come to close his heart to John Constantine.

“Chas stop,” Angela called.

He whipped around and found her running down the street after him. He wanted to ignore her but a nagging curiosity held him still. She jogged until she stood in front of him.

"What do you want Angela?"

"I want you to let me explain. You've got this all wrong."

"Angela, let’s not do this. We’re all adults so you don’t owe me an explanation. I wanted to make sure John had gotten some help," Chas said before she could go farther ."I’m not going to cause a scene. Tell John to call me when he feels better and we’ll make a plan for our next move against Asmodeus.”

He turned away but she scrambled in front of him again. Her hand reached out like she wanted to grab him and Chas’s face hardened.

“Don’t-”

He spat the word out and she pulled her hand back, her palms facing him in a peace offering.

"Chas would you listen to me, please?"

"No! I’m done listening. There is no reason for this, you won! Now leave me alone." The words spewed up from the pit of acid in his belly, dissolving the facade of acceptance his jealousy had been hidden behind. Time to call a spade a spade. If she’d been with John she must have seen what happened between them at the park. She had to know about his feelings for John. What did she want from him, a promise not to come near John again?

Angela’s eyes flashed and she looked right into his face. “John and I are not sleeping together dammit.”

“What?”

"We’re friends, good friends and nothing more. I’m not trying to take John away from you, okay?” She gave Chas a moment to digest her words, before continuing in a softer voice. “I think we need to talk, but I’d rather not do it out here.”

“Why did you answer the door looking like you just came from a fresh romp then?” he countered.

Angela looked down at herself and let out a soft sigh.

“It’s been a rough week. Besides John isn’t even home, he stormed off half an hour ago reeking of demon. He said something about having a crisis and promised he would explain later. I figured he went to find you, but obviously I was wrong. I was worried about him so I decided to wait here and I nodded off on the couch.” Angela said, smoothing down her hair.

Chas sagged with relief.

Angela held out her hand. “Why don't you come back upstairs with me?"

Chas hesitated and she must have understood his reluctance.

“I promise not to look unless you give me permission.”

He nodded and took her hand. She lead him back towards John’s apartment. The idea of looking to Angela Dodson for comfort struck him as absurd. He smiled to himself as he followed her back up the stairs. Once they got back inside she parked him on the couch.

“Angela, I’m sorry,” Chas said, stamping down his embarrassment. He’d acted like an ass and she deserved to hear him acknowledge it.

“Apology accepted. Can I get you something to drink?”

Chas shook his head. She went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of water. She set one on the coffee table in front of him.

“In case you change your mind.”

She leaned against the wall, sipping her water while she waited. The time had come to explain himself but Chas had no idea how to start. He’d kept it hidden inside for so long. He grabbed the glass off the table and downed it in one long swallow. Angela laughed.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning.” She suggested.

Chas looked down at the tiny swirl of water at the bottom of the glass and the tale began to spill out. Once he’d started he found himself unable to stem the tide. He told her everything, from the drunken kiss which awakened his attraction to John, to their encounter with Asmodeus in the park and John’s reaction to him after the bite. She listened without interruption, letting Chas lay it all before her. When he said the last words a lightness stole over him and he wondered how he’d kept silent for so long. Angela’s brow creased and it took a while before she said anything.

"I don't understand him."

“Yeah well that makes two of us.”

Her mouth twisted in a rueful smile. She raised her eyes to his, her look measuring. "Are you in love with him Chas?”

Chas blushed and looked away. He nodded in response, picking a loose thread on his shirt.

“If I could tell you where he went, would you go after him?"

Chas’s heart leapt at her offer but his head reined him in. John had still run away. The chemistry between them was undeniable but would John ever be willing to let him in?

“Even if I did, what good would it do? He made his feelings clear earlier.”

“No he didn’t,” Angela huffed. “He acted like a coward and a jerk. He’s done nothing but lie to you and to himself.”

Chas blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“John has feelings for you, Chas. Beyond his usual faithfulness to his lower half.”

Chas went still, his heart stuttering in his chest.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this, I never told John, but what he’s doing isn’t fair to you or himself. Chas you are the reason John and I broke up.”

“Me? I was dead.” Chas protested. He scooted to the edge of the couch cushion, his whole body drawn in by her words.

Angela laughed softly.

“It didn’t matter. You have to understand back then my power was so new, so raw. Anytime I touched someone I would get smothered under their thoughts and feelings. John felt responsible, he’d reawakened my power, so we worked together to try and get it under control. You were always on his mind. I could understand grieving a lost friend but this was something deeper.”

“He blamed himself for my death. Part of him still does,” Chas explained. She snorted.

“One night when we were fooling around… I saw his memory of kissing you. I didn’t know what to do so I tried to forget it. I told myself it had happened before me, it was none of my business. But I think even then I knew he didn’t belong to me.”

“He was drunk when he kissed me.”

“Do you honestly believe that’s why he did it?”

Chas shook his his and Angela continued.

“The final nail came when he met you in the cemetery. We never made love again. Whether he would admit it or not it’s because he’d been given a second chance to be with you. I’m not a consolation prize so I stepped aside and he did the last thing I expected, he pushed you away.”

“Yeah, I didn’t see it coming either,” Chas added. He sunk back into the couch cushions. He was a jerk to envy her, she’d had no control over experiencing John’s feelings, but the hard knot in his belly remained.

“I’ve often wondered if I should have confronted him. If I had helped him come to terms with his feelings maybe he wouldn’t have been so afraid. But I was one of the few people he stayed close to. I didn’t want him becoming more isolated if it blew up in my face. ”

Chas put his head in his hands. A strange tingling started in his fingers and swept over his entire body. Did John love him? It was obvious John wanted him but Chas had never allowed himself to hope for more. Angela stood and walked over holding out her hand to him. He looked up and she flashed him a sweet smile.

“Come on. I’ll help you find John.”

He swallowed and took her hand. She helped him up and together they headed into John’s bedroom. The bedclothes were a tangled mess and a perfume of flesh and sweat hung in the air. Chas’s mind supplied all kinds of ideas about what John had been doing on his bed and his cock throbbed in response. Angela walked over to the bed, kneeling down on the floor next to it. She placed both her hands, palms down on the rumpled sheets.

“What are you doing?” Chas asked. He crept forward until he stood next to her. Her eyes had rolled back up into her head, the whites twitching from side to side. Her hands crawled like spiders over the bedding. The indistinct murmur of her voice reached his ears. He waited, the muscles in his body drawing tighter with each passing second.

At last she gave a shudder and collapsed. Chas caught her before she hit the floor. She gasped for breath her eyes darting wildly around the room.

“Angela are you okay?”

She nodded but made no move to support herself. He knelt down next to her, holding her while she recovered. After a minute she sat forward, using the edge of the bed to push herself up. He stood, hovering behind her while she continued to collect herself. His hands itched to spin her around and demand answers but he held back.

“Give me a second, it’s there but it’s chaotic.” Her voice came out raspy.

“Do you want some water or-”

She held up a hand to silence him.

“He was in a lot of pain,” she said.

Chas’s gut wrenched. “Do you know where he went?”

She nodded. “He called and asked for her help. He said she owed him because he’d pulled her ass out of the fire.”

“Who?” Chas pressed, a cold sweat springing up along his spine.

“Lillith.”


	13. Transgression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lillith's help is different from what John was expecting. Meanwhile Chas risks much to get to get John back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter needed a big rewrite but I had fun with it so all's well that ends well. No specific warnings for this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 13: Transgression

 

 

John parked the cab in the trash-strewn alley behind The Den. He locked it, sending up a silent prayer it would be safe until he could come back for it. A gust of cold air swirled past him but did nothing to relieve the curse fueled furnace inside his body. He scrambled around the side of the building and entered the coffee shop. Upon his entrance all of the demons inside turned to stare, their eyes crawling over every inch of his body. He stood there panting, his shirt hanging open, like a free buffet for starving men. The pheromones he pumped into the air would tempt the demons to fuck him like a bitch in heat so John scurried over to the counter, surprised to see the redhead from last time. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Good to see you back so soon Mr Constantine. My Mistress told me to send you down to her the minute you arrived.” Her eyes slid down to the obvious tent in his trousers and a slow smile spread over her face. John nodded and ran for the black steel door, wanting to escape the slavering demons hungry eyes.

He yanked the door open and stepped into the hallway beyond. His dilated pupils had primed his eyes for the dim light but he took a moment to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants before starting down the stairs. He’d made a mistake coming here, every cell in his body screamed at the wrongness of it. But down he went, unable to turn back from the hint of salvation.

_She can’t help you. You know I speak the truth. The only path out of the fire is surrender to me._

His foot slipped off a step and John gripped the rail to keep from falling. Another rush of muscle shredding pain followed Asmodeus’s voice and for several desperate seconds John struggled to keep from giving in to the demon. A voice calling his name brought him up short.

“John?” Lillith looked up at him from the landing.

She bounded up the steps to meet him. When she reached him she inhaled his scent and her pupils blew wide with excitement. The scarlet depths made her face more sinister.

“You picked up one nasty curse.” She took his hand and he gasped at the contact. They made their way down to the landing. The steel door stood open, her hulking bouncer nowhere to be seen.

“I had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Asmodeus,” John said. Lillith snorted, hauling through the corridors toward her private room.

“I told you to stay away but did you listen? Dahlia’s death wasn’t a clear enough warning for you? No, I bet you charged right into his arms like the overconfident idiot you are.” She grasped the gargoyle's handle and threw open the door, pushing John into the room with unnecessary force. The door slammed shut behind them.

_Insolent as ever. You should shut her mouth._

“I can hear his voice inside my head,” John admitted. He wanted to throw her down and rip off her clothes and the wanton gleam in her eyes told him she would welcome it.

“His words are poison John, they will lead you into darkness if you weaken.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

She nodded. “Show me where he bit you.”

“How did you know he bit me?”

“He’s always been a biter.”

John slid his arm out of his shirt, exposing the bite mark to her scrutiny. She guided him to the bed, tugging him down until he sat so she could get a better view of the angry wound. She stood between his spread knees, the tumble of her copper hair brushing his chest and thighs. John whined and stuffed his hands under his legs, fisting the bedding.

“Can you get rid of it?” he asked in a choked whisper when she turned her green eyes back to his face.

“Well there’s the rub, my skill set is on the supply side of these situations. I can’t cure what he did but I can give you some relief.” She slid her hands down his chest, finding the hard nubs of his nipples and rolling them between her fingers.

Panic and arousal fought for dominance inside Constantine. Sweat rolled from his hairline into the creases of his eyelids, stinging his eyes. He would go mad if he didn’t purge the filth inside him but Lillith offered him a band-aid when he needed an amputation. Still her touch ignited his blood and fucking her into oblivion would be preferable to being unmade in a forge of desire and pain.

Lillith sensed his weakness and pushed him back onto the bed, slithering on top of his body. John rutted up into her, his hands finding her hips. She swiped her tongue over the bite and John screamed as pain howled up his spine and his cock got rock hard. She cupped his cheek, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Let me make you feel better John.”

John rolled them, pinning her beneath him, the scraps of his control frayed around him and Asmodeus pounced.

_So much for resistance. You’re no better than the others John, just looking for an excuse to give in. Why try to pretend you don’t want it? With me you’ll never have to hide your desires._

John jerked away and curled against the silken bedding, gasping. A dark road stretched before him. How long could he remain sane under the influence of this curse? Soon the fever would boil his mind and Asmodeus would enslave him. He’d been so wrong to come here looking for help. Chas’s face swam before his eyes and he cursed himself. He should have stayed with Chas. But he would have given in and fucked him, and the idea of having his first time with Chas tainted by a demon made him recoil in disgust. No use brooding over a choice he no longer had, for now he needed to find a way to keep himself together until he could find a way to rid himself of the curse. Perhaps he should call Dr. Archer? She might be able to keep him alive long enough for him to track down Midnite. The houngan was his last hope for a cure.

“I came here for a cure not a quick fuck. If you can’t help me then I need to get to someone who can.”

Lillith rubbed her hand over John’s straining erection. “Trust me, fucking will help.”

He thrust up into her touch and she smirked. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug deep, looking for the strength to get up off the bed.

_Come to me!_

Asmodeus boomed inside John’s head and his willpower began to falter. Brimstone burst over the back of his tongue. A taste of his future. He lay there weak and trembling, trapped by the poison in his body and the demon’s intoxicating whispers. The shimmer of heat along his side almost didn’t register till he heard her speak.

“I can be him if it’s what you need.”

Damn her! He opened his eyes and they fell upon Chas’s form. Tendrils of arousal crawled up from his groin like a horde of ants, swarming around his organs and burrowing into his tissues.

“Cheater.” He cursed her, pulling her against him and burying his face against the pale skin of her throat. The soft, warm skin smelled like Chas and he shuddered. She kissed him, her lips traveling across his forehead.

“Take me.”

Her words came in Chas’s voice and John cracked. She offered him a sweet lie and he’d weakened enough to seek comfort in her deception. He captured her mouth in an answering kiss and let himself drown.

 

 

*@*

 

 

Chas landed in the alley where he’d spotted his cab. A quick look inside crushed any hope of catching John before he threw himself at Lillith. He clenched his hands into tight fists, his breathing labored. He’d flown here fast, driven onward by sickening pictures of John and Lillith swirling in his mind like unwanted flotsam. He set his jaw and marched through the alley, sending an empty coffee cup flying with a well placed kick. When he reached the patio he straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. He’d never been inside The Den before but he was well aware of the kind of services they offered here. Constantine and Lillith were somewhere in the bowels of this hell hole and Chas might have nothing more than a half-assed plan but he wasn’t leaving here without John. No matter what he had to do.

A little bell announced his arrival to the room and more than a dozen pairs of eyes settled on him. He met the looks head on, ignoring the sweat dampening his underarms. He strutted over to the counter and ordered an espresso. He even managed a smile for the succubus behind the counter despite wanting to shake her until she told him where John went. No, keep cool, let them come to you.

It happened faster than he’d expected. While he paid for his drink a slender, androgynous incubus slid up next to him.

“We don’t get your kind in here much. Angels tend to think they’re too good for us.” Curiosity laced the demon’s deep voice and Chas turned and gave him a shy smile.

“I’ve never been good at understanding those prejudices. The way I see it we’re two sides to the same coin. Each with something to offer the other.” He let his eyes drift down the incubus’s body.

“I like the way you think.” The demon held out his hand. “My name is Talon. Come sit and talk with me. I’d love to hear more of your ideas about relations between angels and demons.”

Chas balked. He needed to find John now, not sit here exchanging tawdry innuendos while Constantine slipped further and further away. The cup in his hand trembled. Talon arched a finely manicured eyebrow at him and a leaden weight settled in Chas’s stomach. He was blowing it! They were going to see right through him and toss him out on his ass if he didn’t manage to pull together the scraps of his patience. He relaxed the muscles in his body, filling his face with false desire. He leaned closer to the demon, his words breathy and trepedatious.

“Is there somewhere a bit more private we could go to talk? I don’t want to be part of the crowd tonight.”

Talon sharpened like a predator who smelled blood. Chas laid his hand against the demon’s chest, feining an uncontrollable urge to touch him. Talon smiled and covered Chas’s hand with his own.

“You are a rare breed. We could get a room downstairs? Then you’ll have me all to yourself.”

Chas swallowed the gorge rising in his throat and nodded.

They turned back to the woman behind the counter and Talon asked “What’s open downstairs Helene?”

She grabbed a small black binder sitting next to the cash register and flipped through several pages.

“Two and Fourteen are open right now.”

Talon cast a wicked grin at Chas. “I think Fourteen will be perfect for an angel.”

Helene rolled her eyes and addressed Chas. “It’s one hundred for an hour or you can do twelve for a thousand. Cash only.”

“Let's start with one hour and see how things go.” Chas said, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. I am going to make damn sure John pays me back every cent of this, he vowed, handing over the crisp bill.

Talon leaned close to whisper in his ear: “One hour with me is never enough.”

Helene took his money and brought up a room key from under the counter and held it out to him. Chas’s fingers were slick and clumsy and he fumbled, dropping the key with a clatter.

“I’ll take it. First timers are always a little nervous.” Talon said, scooping the key off the counter.

The incubus ushered him over to the large black “Employees Only” door. It opened onto a narrow staircase leading down to the lower level. A slick coating of sweat covered Chas’s back and sides and his mind raced while he walked down the steps. Each step brought him closer to John but also closer to danger. Talon clung to him, making Chas’s skin crawl, and he had to restrain himself from shoving the demon away. He wanted to ditch this guy and find John but he had no idea what waited at the bottom of the stairs so he bit his lip and stayed put.

When they made it to the bottom Chas gaped at the most impressive incubus he’d ever seen. The hulking man blocked the way, filling the tiny landing with barely contained musculature.

“Talon, I see you’ve found an unusual friend tonight,” the demon said.

“Isn’t he adorable?”

Chas flushed.

“There are some rules you need to agree to before you go down there. First, I’ll need your word you’re here of your own free will. Second, beyond this door we all agree to be neutral. You agree to leave any outside conflicts right here, understand?”

“I understand and I’m here of my own free will.”

The incubus nodded and then opened the door.

“Thanks Cabot,” Talon said. He twined his fingers together with Chas’s damp digits and they started down the hallway. Indistinct blue doors lined either side, reminding Chas of rooms in a hospital. The doors were not labeled but Talon moved down the hall with confidence, pulling Chas after him. They passed several small alcoves of doors and to the right another hallway branched off but Talon kept going straight. A low moan oozed through one of the walls and Chas jumped.

“We’re almost there,” Talon soothed.

Chas’s eyes darted to every door, his ears straining for the slightest hint of John’s voice. How would he ever figure out which room John had been taken to? Images of what John must be doing at this very moment raked Chas’s heart. He bumped into Talon not realizing the incubus had stopped in front of one of the blue doors.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, stepping back. Talon gave him a saucy wink and held up the key.

“We’ll be in momentarily lover boy.” He turned back, sliding the key into the lock. Chas’s gut churned, once they went in the room he would have no choice but to turn on Talon. There were rules governing dealings between angels and demons. Rules he’d agreed to be bound by before they had sent him back. He would violate them for John in a heartbeat but it would cost him dearly if he did. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to violence.

Talon jiggled the key in the lock, a metallic scraping accompanying his efforts. “Damn, this one always sticks.”

Chas’s heart stilled, his body reacting on its own. He took several measured, silent steps away from the demon. Talon jerked on they key too busy to notice his quarry getting ready to run. Chas called on his power, a reassuring heat warming his skin, and he stepped into the shadows disappearing from view.

He fled, using every second to put distance between himself and the demon. Behind him Talon’s voice called.

“Aha! Got it-” followed a second later by “Hey lover where’d you get to?”

Chas ducked into the nearest alcove, pressing his hand tight over his mouth, wanting no sound to betray his presence to the incubus. Footsteps approached down the hall and then Talon walked past, a dark look on his face as he searched. Chas counted to five and then peered back into the hall. Talon headed straight for the door they’d entered through and Chas’s knees turned to water as he remembered the guard who waited there. No time to waste.

He crept back out into the main hall. A vice closed inside his chest and he struggled to breathe. Where are you John? He began checking the doors, pressing his ear against each one, hoping to hear Constantine’s voice behind one of them. Talon had disappeared through the door but any second he’d be back with help and even Chas’s invisibility couldn’t keep him hidden down here forever.

“Dammit Talon you have the worst instincts!”

The angry remark froze Chas and he turned to see Talon and the guard Cabot marching down the hallway.

“He seemed nice. I only took my eyes off him for a minute so he can’t have gotten far,” Talon whined.

Chas stared at the approaching demons, dread prickling over his skin. The only place for him to go was back, where it would be easier for them to trap him. He inched back toward the alcove he’d hidden in before never taking his eyes off his pursuers. Suddenly Cabot stopped at the branch hallway.

“We’ve got to tell her Talon.”

“Come on Cabot you know I’m on thin ice as it is. If she finds out she’ll kick me out. Look around with me real quick. Maybe he wandered off and got lost.”

Cabot stayed put, his face a mask of indifference.

“Please!” begged Talon. “You know she’ll be extra pissy if we interrupt her while she’s with her pet exorcist anyway.”

Cabot’s expression softened. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”

They began coming towards him again. But Chas stared, fixated on the hallway beyond them. Lillith was down there with John and he ached down to the marrow of his bones with the fierce desire to bolt past the demons and reclaim the man he loved. Waiting for even one more second made him want to scream. If he got caught John would remain with Lillith though and so he forced himself back, pressing as far into the semi circular space as he could. He prayed, stupid selfish prayers while Cabot and Talon closed in on him. A rush of air met him and Chas realized he squeezed his shut. He squinted in time to see the two demons pass in front of him. Cabot’s eyes scoured over the space and Chas swore the incubus looked right at him but they continued on.

Chas started moving again the moment they passed him. He ran down the hall, till he reached to fork. I’m coming John! There at the end of the branch hall stood a door with an enormous gargoyle knocker set in its center. Its hideous face sent hot anger rushing through Chas and he stormed towards the door.

He tried to slow himself down, to think of what he would say and do once he opened the door, but all his mind was clouded with images of John laying next to Lillith in post-coital bliss. When he reached the door a loud thud came from the other side. He set his ear against the wood and a familiar moan shot straight to the core of him.

“Come on John, give me everything.”

The familiarity of the voice bothered him but the red fog taking over him made him unable to process why. He stepped back into the light, crushing the metal doorknob in his hands as he ripped the door open.


	14. Made in His Image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas confronts John and Lillith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is folks, John and Chas finally back together. I do hope you all enjoy this chapter and that it proves to be worth the wait.

Chapter 14: Made in His Image

 

 

The door hit the wall behind it with incredible force, cracking the drywall and dropping a cascade of debris on the plush carpet. The force of Chas’s entry made the candlelight in the room flicker and gutter but he had no problem finding John. Constantine stood with his shirt open and his pants around his ankles pressing what appeared to be… Chas, against the wall. The gut wrenching tableau of John having sex with someone else was bad enough, but Lillith had stolen his form. Chas’s eyes went wide and he stood in the doorway, reeling under a staggering sense of personal vertigo.

“What in God’s name is going on here John?” he demanded, his voice little more than a wounded rasp. Constantine jerked around and stared at him like he’d never seen him before.

“Chas?”

The demon still had her hands inside John’s pants and she used his own face to blow a triumphant kiss at him before stroking John again. Constantine moaned and flames of unrestrained rage seared Chas’s face.

“Get your hands off of him!”

“Ohh, somebody’s jealous.” Her voice came out of his mouth and she flicked her tongue against the skin over John’s collarbone.

How dare she! Chas exploded, charging forward and grabbing John. He hauled Constantine away from her, putting himself between the two of them. His sides heaved and his jaw creaked from clenching it so hard. He radiated rage at Lillith.

“How dare you steal my image? How dare you presume to stand in my place and make love to him? Take it off.”

“Chas please, calm down,” John said.

“Shut up John. I’ll deal with you in a minute.” He couldn’t think about John right now without his wounded heart threatening to bring him to his knees. He stepped closer to Lillith, almost nose to nose with his clone.

“You’re pathetic, you had to use trickery to get him to want you. Now take it off.”

“Some people don’t know when to be flattered,” Lillith said, the illusion melting away. A smug grin remained in place as she made a show of putting her clothes to rights and Chas drew himself up, flaring his wings out to eclipse her. Behind him John let out a pained gasp. Chas made a grab for Lillith, ready to throttle her, but John grabbed his arms, pulling him away from her and Chas struggled against the restraint.

“Let go of me!” Chas spat, shooting Constantine a vicious look over his shoulder. John dug his fingers in tighter, shaking his head.

He pulled Chas flush against his body, “I can’t.”

The helplessness in John’s words sucked some of the blinding anger from Chas. The tremors from John’s violent shaking radiated into him. Constantine lowered his head, resting his cheek against Chas’s hair. A flicker of movement caught Chas’s attention as Lillith stepped towards them.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled.

“You don’t command me. This is my house and I rule here.”

Chas’s set his face. He had no intention of letting her near John again. Lillith pulled back her lips and hissed at him.

“Lillith stop,” John said, making an awkward move toward her. He swayed and lost his footing. Chas grabbed him before he could collapse. He looked at John’s flushed, sweat-soaked face and realized how weak Constantine had become. For the first time since he’d come here worry began to eclipse his anger.

“Bring him to the bed,” Lillith said and Chas didn’t argue. He hauled John over and laid him on the giant gothic bed. He bent over him, brushing his fingers over John’s forehead, the skin so hot it burned to touch. John remained conscious but he seemed almost delirious, he tried to sit up but Chas held him down. John had gone downhill faster than he’d thought possible.

“May I?”

Chas turned to find Lillith watching John, her face pinched with concern. He hesitated. He hated her right now but she might be able to help John and she had gone so far as to ask for his permission. He nodded and she came forward. He stood back and she sat on the bed next to John. She lifted his eyelids and took his pulse, the lines of worry on her face growing deeper. Chas bristled like an angry warthog when she touched John but he bit his lip. John’s hand fluttered in his direction, reaching out for him. He caught John’s hand and held it tight.

Lillith sighed and stood up. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you he needs help.”

Chas stiffened. Lillith let out an irritated noise.

“Look kitten, I understand your feelings are hurt. If it makes it any better he didn’t come here to have sex with me, he thought I might be able to cure him. I’ve wanted him for a while now and I took advantage. I’m not sorry so I won’t insult you with a fake apology.”

“Is there a point here?” Chas snapped.

“The point is it’s time to put aside your jealousy so we can help him.”

Chas glanced back at John. He lay watching their conversation but his eyes were unfocused like he was listening to something else.

"Do you know how to fix this?" he asked, his voice tight.

"There is a ritual, but I don't have the power required to perform it. A cleansing of this magnitude must be done by someone with a strong spiritual presence."

"Midnite,” John said. He sat up and scooted towards the edge of the bed, but once again Chas stopped him.

“I’ll find him, John,” Chas promised.

Lillith scoffed, pushing Chas down on the bed beside John. “I think you two have some unfinished business to take care of. I’ll get Midnite.”

Chas’s cheeks flamed at her implication. She leered at them, making it obvious she wished she could stay for the ‘show’. Chas gave her a baleful look in return and she shrugged her shoulders. She walked to the door, calling over her shoulder.

“The room is yours, I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed. By the way Constantine, this makes us even.”

The door closed behind her and John and Chas sat together in a silence broken only by John’s ragged breaths. John flopped back on the bed and Chas glanced over. John had thrown his arm up so it hid his face. With his clothes pushed out of the way Chas could see most of John’s body, the candlelight dancing over the sheen of sweat on his skin. Chas’s eyes slid over the outline of John's erection and his mouth went dry. A war raged inside him over whether to kiss John or haul off and punch him for acting like such an ass.

"I'm sorry,"John whispered.

A lump formed in Chas’s throat. Don’t you dare cry. John’s actions had wounded him deeply, yet all the cutting things he’d thought to throw in John’s face died on his lips. John lay next to him, aroused and in pain and Chas had the power to help him. Deep down inside, even after all John’s stupidity and stubbornness, Chas wanted to love him. He set his hand over John’s heart. Constantine lowered his arm and met his eyes.

“Don’t think this means you’re off the hook, because you’re not.” His voice hitched and he took a shaky breath. “But for now I want you to touch me and I want to touch you.”

“Chas you don’t understand. Asmodeus is here, inside me. I can hear him. The things he’s telling me to do...” John whispered. “It won’t be just you and me. He’ll be there, polluting it.” John’s words stalled and he went rigid. A strangled moan tore from his throat.

Whatever doubts remained in Chas were washed away at the sight of John’s suffering. He slid down, settling himself between John’s spread legs. The scent of John’s body made him dizzy and he he dipped his head, rubbing his nose along the column of John’s erection, breathing in more. Between his own legs his cock and thighs pounded with the vital thrum of his heart.

"Oh God," John yelped. His hand shot down, fingers curling into Chas’s hair.

Chas smiled and blew a puff of hot air over John’s penis. John growled and pushing his hips forward, rubbing himself against Chas's face. Chas licked over John’s tip through his underwear until the fabric became soaked and stuck to the flesh beneath. Using his mouth on John made his body hot and his head fuzzy but there was something they needed to get clear before they went further. He gave John’s penis a sudden nip and John hissed.

“Do I have your attention?”

“Yes.”

“I want you John. I never imagined it would happen like this but I still want it. No one is forcing me to do anything, not you, not Asmodeus.” He kissed and soothed the spot he’d bitten. His eyes ran up John’s body till they met John’s dark, lidded orbs. John had to believe him before they could continue. He wasn’t going to give Constantine ammunition to feed his guilt later on. “Do you understand?”

“Chas,” John whined, his body shaking.

“Don’t listen to him,” Chas commanded, crawling up till they were face to face. He took John’s head, setting their foreheads together. “Listen to me John. Please.”

Something inside John snapped and he grabbed Chas. Their lips met in a hungry kiss and the spark between them roared into an inferno. It burned but Chas would have been happy to let it consume him forever. John rolled Chas beneath him.

“I need to be inside you, every second I’m not it hurts,” John gasped.

Chas didn’t have time to respond before John began undoing his pants. His heart gave a nasty shudder. John had released his control and adrenaline shot through Chas in response. While John tore open his pants his other hand shoved Chas’s shirt up, exposing his chest and belly. In mere seconds Chas’s pants and underwear were tugged off and thrown aside. John’s dark eyes ate up every inch of him and Chas bit his lips, his hands coming to cover his swollen prick. The vulnerability of being exposed to John overwhelming him.

“No,” John growled, snatching Chas’s hands away and pinning them to the bed. “Why would you want to hide such a pretty cock?”

Chas’s mouth fell open. John looked at his cock again and it twitched, clear fluid beading at the tip.

“Don’t move,” John said, pressing Chas’s hands into the silken bedding for emphasis before letting go.

“John, I-” Chas’s words were lost in an incoherent groan when John raked his short nails down the delicate skin of his chest and belly till he reached Chas’s pubic hair.

“Shh.”

John made soothing noises as he took Chas’s dick in his hand, stroking from root to tip. Chas cried out pushing his hips up into John’s hand. John stroked Chas while his other hand fished his cock out of the hole in his boxers. He scooted closer, spreading Chas’s thighs until he could press their cocks together. Electricity shot through Chas’s nerves at the touch of such tender flesh against his own. John used his hand to make a sheath around them, thrusting against Chas.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Chas clawed the covers, a stream of needy moans and pleas pouring from him. John’s hot flesh drove against him relentlessly, melting him. Chas found everything else being stripped away, until he’d forgotten the curse, Asmodeus, the outside world, everything except John.

The muscles in his groin shivered and tightened. "John if you don't slow down I'm going to come."

"Go ahead. I want to watch you."

A few more thrusts into the slick tunnel of John’s fist and Chas toppled over the crest. His vision went white, body arching off the bed. He ejaculated against John’s penis in a warm rush. Breathless pleasure emptied him out and he collapsed back into the bed panting and shaking. John gathered Chas’s semen and spread it over his fingers.

“Open your legs.”

Chas obeyed John’s rough command, spreading himself until the stretch burned his inner thighs. Slick fingers brushed over his puckered entrance. His hips twitched away but he screwed up his courage and steadied himself. John pressed the first finger into him and Chas closed his eyes, unable to handle the look on John’s face as he stretched him open. It didn’t hurt but the intensity of being penetrated for the first time made Chas squirm. John rubbed over his thighs and belly with his free hand. A second and third finger followed, quickly. Chas’s cock had already begun to harden again with each press of John’s fingers. The smell of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, drugging Chas into needing more, more of John’s touch, more of his love.

"Chas I can't be gentle."

"I can handle it."

"I know you can."

John pulled out his fingers and kissed Chas before positioning himself against Chas’s slick anus. Constantine spat into his hand, spreading the mixture of saliva and what remained of Chas's semen over his turgid cock. Chas stared at him with wide eyes and John tipped his hips forward and pushed inside.

Chas gave a soft whine as John sheathed himself. Angels were protected from pain but it still burned as he took John in up to his base. The fullness inside him had a sharp, erotic quality. John gave him no quarter, pulling out and thrusting back in immediately. He thrust so hard Chas had to grab his waist to steady himself. He did it again and again, each time snapping his hips up harder. John kissed and bit over his neck and collarbone.

“It feels so good inside you,” John said, he’d begun to punctuate each thrust with a low moan.

John’s face showed the intensity of his sensation and Chas found himself mesmerized by watching John come undone. John however wasn’t satisfied. He grabbed Chas’s thighs and pushed them up. His next thrust struck and Chas let out a sobbing cry. Lightning arced through his body and Chas wondered if pleasure could drive him mad.

John snarled and drove into Chas’s prostate again and again. He snaked a hand between them grabbing Chas’s dick, pumping it roughly, working his thumb over the leaking slit.

The pressure in Chas’s testicles built exponentially and he cried out. "Oh God, I'm coming."

"Stay with me Chas, I'm so close."

John clamped his hand down hard at the base of Chas’s dick, hammering into him with abandon. Chas cried out his hips jerking and his eyes watering.

“John please, let me come,” he begged.

“Not until I do.”

John’s face contorted with pleasure and frustration and for the first time Chas worried the curse might deny John completion. What would he do if he couldn’t bring John relief? John’s thrusts became frenzied and Chas whimpered, his body tightening around the assault. His own pleasure faded from his mind and his whole being ached for John. He reached up, pulling John down into a sweet, sloppy kiss. He poured all his love for John into the meeting of their mouths, the mingling of their breath.

Chas pulled back enough to speak. “I want you to come John.” He gasped. John’s cock throbbed hard deep inside him. “Please, come for me. I can’t…”

John suddenly yelled in pleasure and burst into Chas. White hot lava rushed from John’s body into his. John released his cock and Chas wailed as his own molten release spilled between their bellies. Orgasm’s pull swallowed his mind and he screamed out John’s name over and over.

Chas lay there trembling in the chemical aftermath of his climax. John let out a shuddering breath and collapsed in a boneless heap on top of him. Their clothes were tangled around them, a mess of sweat and semen sticking their bodies together. John’s heart beat against Chas’s chest like a trapped bird and he allowed himself to bask in this perfect moment. Chas had not felt so completely in his body since his death. Dying severed an integral connection to the physical world and Chas had been stunned when he got back to realize it could not be replicated. He had his form but he was not tied to it, in fact at first he had been afraid if he didn’t concentrate on staying present he would slip his skin. Uriel had assured him it would pass with time, as his memories of being mortal faded so would his discomfort. Chas would never admit it to Uriel or the other angels but he didn’t want to forget. He smiled, here with John, their bodies intimately connected. It was as though he had never died. He brushed his hands up along, John’s arms, wanting the exorcist to kiss him again but John didn’t react to his touch.

“John?”

No response. Chas’s stomach hardened and he pushed John’s shoulders, disengaging their bodies and rolling him over. Constantine flopped onto the bed, soft and unresisting. Chas’s throat closed. He crawled over, pressing his head against John’s chest, afraid silence would greet him. John’s heart thumped steadily, his chest rising and falling with soft even breaths. Chas sagged in relief. He sat back looking John over again. An unnatural pallor hung over John.

“John? Can you hear me?” Chas tried again, louder this time. Come on John! Move, speak, show me some sign you’re still here. He hesitated for a moment before slapping John’s cheek hard.

“John, wake up!”

Nothing. He grasped Constantine’s shoulders and shook him until his head snapped sharply back and Chas let go before he hurt John. Maybe it’s normal, John had been besieged by a tornado of physical stress over the last several hours. His body must need rest desperately. Still the seed of corruption lay curled within John, and Chas couldn’t convince himself everything would be okay. A faint whisper of dark laughter reached him and he looked down, narrowing his eyes. John lay still and silent but a sudden chill took hold of Chas.

He clamped down on his fears. Rest was the best thing for both of them. A few sharp tugs and he got the duvet free. He snuggled up next to John before tucking them both in. He pressed his body along John’s, wanting the reassurance of the other man’s warmth. Chas placed one hand over Constantine’s heart. The organ’s unending beat comforted him and soon his eyelids began to droop. Please Midnite, get here soon, he prayed, before sleep overtook him.


	15. Desires of the Flesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus's control over John gets stronger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay listen up folks the beginning of this chapter has a major content warning for non-consensual sex and graphic violence. It's squicky but I think the chapter overall is good and I hope you continue to enjoy.

Chapter 15: Desires of the Flesh

 

 

John opened his eyes and startled at the darkness which greeted him. He waved a hand in front of his face but he couldn’t make out his own fingers in the pitch black. The soft bedding beneath him tried to lull him back to sleep but a sense of unease tugged at his mind. He worked to piece together what had happened since he’d been bitten by Asmodeus but his memories were clouded. Vague impressions of fire and pleasure tormented him. Chas had been with him, right? John shook his head. The harder he tried to remember the less distinct it got, like sand running through his fingers.

John took a deep breath. A strange taste in the air made him think he was deep underground. A wet, stale, tang coated his mouth and nostrils. He slid his fingers out, feeling for the edge of the bed when his hand met something hot. John jerked back. A soft chuffing noise greeted his touch and the hair along Constantine’s body pricked with fear. Wherever he was, something was in the dark with him. The air along his right stirred and a susurrus sound like flesh against stone crawled over his body. He held himself still, covering his mouth with his hand in an effort to silence his breathing. The bed dipped as its massive bulk rolled closer, the heat pouring off it made his skin damp with sweat. It loomed up over him, covering his body. John pressed back into the blankets but he had nowhere to go. The creature eclipsed him in the inky blackness.

“I promised you I would take away your pain.”

Asmodeus! John bit his lip to stifle the tide of curses clawing up the back of his throat. How had the demon gotten to him? He suddenly became very aware of his nudity. His dick responded to Asmodeus's voice, blood flushing into the organ until he worried it would burst. It throbbed, begging to be touched and John dug his nails into his palms to keep from giving in and stroking himself.

“I can offer you pleasure like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

The words touched him like a lover, invading deep under his skin to set his bones on fire. The demon sagged above him, brushing their bodies together. Fur and scales and sickening soft flesh touched him, making John’s skin crawl. Heat flared near his groin and a wet sound reached him above the demon’s harsh breath. A second later he screamed as a dripping, silken channel enveloped his cock. John thanked God it was too dark to see what had taken him in. He thrust up, his body helpless against the desire Asmodeus forced on him.

“Oh God,” John moaned. Clawed fingers settled on his thighs, pushing them apart.

“He’s not who you should be praying to.”

The pleasure left John weak and dizzy, the most overpowering high he had ever experienced. Yet deep inside part of him rebelled, unwilling to submit to the sucking pull of the demon’s power. There came an insistent tamping behind his testicles, looking for his opening. Asmodeus located his anus and penetrated him. He screamed again but not in pain; despite the lack of preparation and lube his body welcomed the intrusion with delight. John’s mind started to splinter, cracking under the ecstasy of fucking and being fucked.

“It could be like this always,” the demon purred.

Tears welled out of John’s eyes. His dick went rigid, spurting into the demon. His climax unending, like the ocean. The moment one wave passed another hit him. Asmodeus moaned above him, his faintly sulfurous breath fanning John’s face. The monstrous thing inside him got harder, claws digging into his thighs to hold him still. The first pulse singed as it flowed up into his guts and John whined. Each pulse hurt worse than the last and John smelled blood and rot wafting up from between his legs. The demon roared his pleasure, the noise so loud the the ground beneath them shook. John was dying, he knew it yet he hadn’t the strength to fight and free himself. The beast leaned down, licking John’s face with a rough tongue.

“All you have to do is become my slave.”

 

*@*

 

“Ahhh!”

The anguished moan startled Chas out of his sleep. His clouded vision blurred in the candlelight. He scrubbed his face. John thrashed next to him and a cold tendril of fear gripped his insides. He rolled over, his eyes going wide. John had kicked off the blankets, his chest rising and falling with his labored breaths. Sweat soaked his body, clothes, and the bed underneath. He tossed his head from side to side, whining and murmuring indistinct pleas. Between his legs his cock jutted prominently from his body.

Chas reached out his hand. "John? wake up!"

The second they touched John screamed and his whole body began jerking violently. Chas lept into action, afraid John was having a seizure. He jumped out of bed, circling around to John's side. He made quick work of stripping John’s remaining clothes off. A sickening deep red flush covered John’s alabaster skin and Chas frowned. He moved John to the bed’s center, rolling him over onto his side in case he vomited before dashing to the bathroom.

He flicked on the lights, scouring the room for what he needed. A row of plush black towels hung on a rack in the left wall and Chas grabbed one before he headed over to the tub. The bathtub was a giant stone grotto sunk into the floor. The copper faucet and handles had been polished to a dull shine. He turned the water on lukewarm and soaked the towel. He needed to bring John’s body temperature down, but too much would shock his system. Chas berated himself furiously for falling asleep. He should have been watching over John. They weren’t out of danger, yet he had let his guard down. He scrubbed his hand over his face. Right now John needed him so he clamped down on his recriminations. He stopped the water and balled up the dripping towel as he rushed back into the bedroom. John still convulsed, a bit of spit foaming out of his mouth and onto the pillow.

“John, I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m going to try and cool you down,” Chas warned John as he approached the bed. “This might feel awful.”

Tentatively, Chas draped the towel over John’s body. The second the towel touched Constantine’s skin he reared up. He gasped and clawed the towel off himself, flinging it against the wall with a wet slap.

"Calm down," Chas said. He touched John’s arm but Constantine shoved his hand away. John shrunk back, crouching on the bed like he expected to be attacked.

“Hey, you’re okay. It’s me, Chas.”

At Chas words John shuddered and gave a low growl. An aura of wrongness surrounded John, like the taint within him had bled through his skin into the air. Chas stretched out his wings, a slight flush of power warming his skin and filling his voice.

“John, I want you to look at me.”

John brought his head up and Chas went rigid. His eyes were a deep, featureless black. Chas flinched back and a small smile tugged at the corners of Constantine’s mouth.

“Do you know where you are John?”

“Not where I belong.”

John’s voice came out strange and hollow. He slid off the bed, his eyes moving over Chas before focusing on the door. Constantine walked brusquely, headed straight for the door, ignoring Chas and his own nudity. Chas acted on instinct and grabbed John’s arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

John ignored him, pulling away, his focus still on the exit.

“John stop! What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“I have to go to him. To my Master,” John replied.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Chas cried. He would only let John throw himself into Asmodeus’s arms over his dead body. He’d gone through too damn much to lose Constantine now. He wrapped his arms around John’s waist, hauling him back into the room and throwing him on the bed. John sat up and Chas shoved him back down, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist. John blinked at him, black shark eyes assessing whether or not he was a threat. The malevolent tug of the demon’s influence poisoned the very air around them as it had with the strange man in his cab. It hurt Chas to be so disconnected from John when mere hours ago they’d been making love.

“You are in my way,” John said, and he began to struggle. Chas grabbed John’s wrists and pinned him to the bed. He had to keep John here with him until Midnite arrived and he was not above physically restraining him. Constantine growled again, a warning, and Chas tensed for the fight to come. John, however, had other ideas, he smelled along Chas’s neck and jaw, his noises becoming much more wanton. Chas pulled back but John canted his hips up, rubbing his erection against Chas’s ass. Chas let out a startled squeak. Seemed Asmodeus’s lure couldn’t override the temptation of bare flesh within arm’s reach. He stared down into John’s black eyes and his resolve hardened. Whatever it took to get John back to him, he would do it. Asmodeus may have promised John pleasure but Chas was going to make a counteroffer. He swallowed his embarrassment and sat up, reaching behind to grab John’s cock, rubbing the head right over his entrance.

“Is this what you want?”

Constantine stilled. Lust, hot and dark flaring in the black depths of his eyes, his cursed blood responding to carnal temptation.

“You want to fuck me?” Chas asked. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, still teasing John’s head over the clenching pucker between his ass cheeks. Every line of his body spelled out his offer. “I want it. I want you to use your cock to make me feel good.”

John sprang into action, rolling them and slamming his mouth against Chas’s. The kiss was fierce, more of a battle, complete with blood and teeth. Chas found the roughness jarring but he submitted, giving as good as he got. Scratching, grabbing, biting, growling they alternately wounded and soothed each other, passion rising like a storm.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

The command startled Chas. John’s eyes remained black and his sides heaved with his breath. Chas turned over, pushing up onto wobbly arms and legs. His face reddened and his breath caught in his throat as he presented himself to John.

Constantine moved behind Chas, a hand settling against the back of Chas’s neck before sliding down his spine, between his buttocks to the back of his testicles. He shivered, dropping down to his elbows to keep from face planting into the bed. His dick pressed tight against his belly with excitement.

“Spread yourself open.”

John followed his order with a sharp slap to Chas’s ass. Chas squeezed his eyes shut. He laid his upper body on the bed reaching back and grabbing his cheeks, pulling them apart. Shame lit his face so brightly he worried he might burst into flames. A hot tongue swept over his anus and he gasped, almost collapsing to the bed. John grabbed his hips, pulling him back up to continue his assault. Chas’s nerves exploded under John’s tongue. He lost control of his voice, beyond caring who heard him whimpering and moaning. John licked and probed him until he sobbed into the blankets, a thick string of precome trailing from the tip of his dick to the covers.

“Put it in John,” he begged. He’d completely forgotten who was supposed to be seducing who. He only knew he had to have John inside him again. “Please, fuck me already."

John quickly transitioned from tongue to cock and Chas screamed, pushing himself back to meet John’s thrust. Chas’s wet, eager body sucked John in. John rutted into him like an animal, placing a hand between the base of Chas’s wings to hold him down. John’s cock went so deep spots danced in front of Chas’s eyes. He dug his hands into the covers a gave himself up to the utter release of rough sex. His orgasm came sudden and explosive, his come jetting over the blankets beneath them. John followed soon after, pulling his dick out and ejaculating over Chas’s ass and back in a hot rush.

Chas collapsed, his whole body trembled and jerked in response to the pleasure still quaking through him.

“Chas…I, I can’t.”

Chas looked back and John’s eyes were clear and dark and afraid. John’s mouth opened in a wordless cry and then he came down hard, knocking the air out of Chas’s lungs. Chas coughed and squirmed out from underneath, fear bitter in the back of his throat.

“Dammit John,” Chas whispered in frustration. John lay in the blankets, eyes shut and body limp. He set two fingers against the skin under his jawline, checking his pulse. It beat slow and steady and he dropped his hand. He blew out a long breath, trying to hold the wall against the wave of panic threatening to overwhelm him. He gathered John into his arms, settling him back into the bed. The fever had come down from earlier but John's skin had become hot and dry. Constantine was becoming dehydrated.

Chas pulled up the blankets over John’s naked shoulders and then headed back into the bathroom. He rummaged around the black marble cabinets until he found a cup. He filled it with cool water from the tap and returned to John’s side. He ran a tender hand over John’s cheek before parting his lips. Little by little he dribbled water into John’s mouth. John swallowed on his own which gave Chas some relief but he could tell Constantine was running out of time. John’s body kept being forced to shut down in a desperate attempt to recuperate. Asmodeus would have John or kill him. Chas ran his finger’s through John’s lank hair. Was he going to lose John? He sniffed and scrubbed a hand across his eyes, pretending not to notice the salty wetness.

When he’d poured most of the water down John’s throat Chas got off the bed. He found the pile of his discarded clothing and dug out his pants. He retrieved his cell phone from the back pocket. Ten minutes past three AM. He had spent a handful of hours in this bedroom but it seemed he’d been here forever. The outside world had fallen away and Chas imagined if he opened the door he would be greeted by a black empty maw.

John twitched and Chas went rigid. Could it be starting again? He waited, breath held in his chest but Constantine rolled to the side and settled again. Chas curled his knees up to his chest, his head fell forward and he used his arms to hold himself together. He loved John. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He didn’t blame John, Constantine couldn’t control what had been done to him, but Chas’s heart hurt.

Chas sat on the bed for a long time, watching John sleep. He’d started to doze off when a loud banging on the door startled him awake. He scrambled off the bed and ran for the door. He grasped the cold metal handle and pulled the door open. Lillith and Midnite stood in the hall. As they looked him over a matching set of Cheshire grins appeared on their faces and Chas realized he was still naked.

“John’s getting worse,” Chas blurted out, unable to stifle the sob which followed. They both sobered up and Chas let them in. Midnite wore a floor-length white trench coat which covered everything but his hands, face, and shoes. He carried a large red duffel bag, big enough to fit a grown man inside. Midnite dropped it on the floor and it made an ominous metallic clunk. Chas skirted around the bag and quickly pulled on his pants before meeting Midnite at John’s bedside. Midnite’s breath hissed out of him when he touched John’s forehead. Lillith perched herself on the bottom of the bed, her brow furrowed.

“How long has he been like this?” Midnite barked.

“More than half an hour this time.”

“This time?”

Midnite turned his sharp eyes on him and Chas squirmed like a guilty child.

“It happened before too. As soon as we’re done he collapses.”

“But he woke up?”

“Well sort of, he had some kind of fit in his sleep. He started moaning and convulsing. I thought it was the fever. I used a wet towel to try and cool him down but when I put it on him he woke up.” Chas swallowed. “He wasn’t himself though, his eyes were all black and he kept saying he wanted to go to Asmodeus. I had to hold him down and practically throw myself at him to keep him here.”

Midnite turned back to the unconscious man in the bed, shaking his head.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, old friend?”


	16. With Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's friends fight to give him the strength to purge Asmodeus from his body and mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a happy holiday season. This chapter is one of the longest in the whole story which is why it took me forever to edit. There are warnings for non-consensual sex in this chapter. Also I want to let everyone know I am expecting a baby in the next couple of weeks and as such chapter updates may take a bit longer for a while. I promise the story is finished and will not be abandoned. Thank you all for reading and wishing you all a wonderful New Year!

Chapter 16: With Blood

 

 

Midnite took one last look over John before going to his bag and unzipping it

  
“I’ll need a table or dresser to use as an altar and you need to put out these damn candles. Open flame outside of the sacred space is a very bad idea,” he barked at them over his shoulder.

  
Chas’s mind raced as he stood there looking at John’s unconscious form. He’d been sure Midnite’s arrival would calm him but his fears crowded in even more now. Could Midnite cure John? If they failed what would happen? Would he be doomed to watch the man he loved become enslaved by Asmodeus? A light touch on his shoulder made him jump. Lillith stood next to him, a soft smile on her lips.

  
“Come on lover boy, help me move this dresser.

  
He nodded and followed her over to the large blackwood dresser against the back left wall. They blew out the candles, moving them off the polished surface. Once they had it cleared, they shoved it around the bed, centering it in front of Midnite.

  
Chas couldn’t keep his eyes off John. The dim light had turned John’s features skeletal. He lay so still, like he’d already accepted the bed as his grave. Chas clenched his fists. Midnite crouched on the floor holding a small cloth bag in his hands. He filled it with quick, precise movements from the stash of stuff within his duffle bag. A second later he tied the bag shut, taking it with him over to John.

  
“What’s that?” Chas asked, coming up behind him.

“It’s a gris-gris. It will help loosen the demon’s grip on him.”

  
Chas crept forward to stand at Constantine’s side. He trusted Midnite but Asmodeus wouldn’t give up his prize without a fight and John had already become so weak. He pulled John’s hand into his own, cradling the warm flesh. A smile flickered across Midnite’s dark face. He laid the small cloth bag against John’s breastbone. Chas held his breath, bracing himself for a violent reaction. Instead John let out a soft snore. He gave no sign the talisman had done anything. Chas opened his mouth but Midnite slapped his hand down hard on top of the gris-gris.

  
“Wake up, damn you! I’m not going to bother saving your ass if you're going to be this lazy”

  
#

 

John slit his eyes open, Midnite’s stormy face greeting him.

  
“Nice of you to show up.” His voice came out rough like his throat had been scoured with steel wool.

  
“This may surprise you, Constantine, but I don’t sit around my club waiting for the next opportunity to save your life.”

  
“Liar,” John snarked.

  
Midnite shook his head, but amusement and relief shown on his face. John tried to sit up but both Chas and Midnite pushed him back into the soft pillows.

  
John focused on Chas and the angel let out a soft breath of relief. The clear lines of strain on Chas’s face worried him. How long had he been here? He remembered making love to Chas. John closed his eyes, letting the raw sensuality of the memories flow over him. Afterwards though everything became clouded with darkness and fear, like falling down the rabbit hole. A spear of pain twisted behind John’s right eye and he groaned, clutching his head. Impressions floated up, bright and intense, like sitting too close to the screen in a movie theater. It made no sense though and his mind refused to go further.

  
The light in the room grew dimmer and John looked around in panic. Lillith flitted from corner to corner blowing out candles, plunging them into deeper darkness. Asmodeus voice began to rise like a blood red sun peeking up over the horizon. John felt icy fear spread up from his chest, clogging his throat and paralyzing his arms. Sweat pooled along his flanks and slicked his palms. He had to get out of here. In the dark Asmodeus would devour him. Already hot breath and sharp teeth waited poised at his nape. A warm hand took his own and a ray of light pierced the growing dark. Chas sat next to him, his wings and skin giving off a subtle glow untouched by Asmodeus’s filth.

  
“Light, please,” John whimpered

  
“I’m on it,” Lillith replied.

  
A moment later light poured from several circular fixtures in the ceiling, the change so abrupt John had to shield his eyes. He blinked the room back into focus. His doom retreated and John sighed in relief. The harsh light had sucked out the sexual magic of the place, leaving an opulent but entirely normal room.

  
Midnite left his preparations and came to take John’s face in his big hands. Midnite inspected his pupils, took his pulse and probed around the still throbbing bite wound. The curse sprang to life and John’s body responded to Midnite’s touch with alarming intensity. He hunched over, pulling the covers up to hide his erection. Midnite laughed and John blushed.

  
“Well?” John asked when Midnite finished his exam.

  
“It’s a fucking mess John, but I think I can cleanse it. Keep the gris-gris against your skin, it dampens the demon’s power. ”

  
John nodded, curling his fist around the talisman.

  
Midnite clapped him on the shoulder, flashing his dazzling white teeth. “Trust me John.” He returned to his makeshift altar, hefting his big bag up onto it. He dug around inside, pulling out two sets of thick metal shackles, holding them out.

  
“Here are the restraints.”

  
Both John and Chas looked up at this. Lillith took the clump of chains and cuffs, amusement gleaming in her wicked eyes.

  
“What the hell are those for?” John croaked.

  
Midnite ignored the question, continuing to prepare for the ritual. Lillith approached the bed.

  
“This isn’t your first rodeo John, things tend to go badly if you’re not properly restrained.” She grabbed for his wrist but he snatched it away. “Don’t make this a fight,” she warned, flicking her tail. “You won’t win.”

  
“Let me put some pants on at least,” John protested, his erection still tenting the sheet.

  
“That would be counterproductive,” Midnite answered.

  
“Excuse me?”

  
“You need to be naked.”

  
John sputtered and Midnite arched an eyebrow at him in a rather patronizing way. He bit down hard on his tongue. Fine, naked it was.

  
He nodded to Lillith, his stomach squirming. The touch of cold iron made him shudder. It’s better this way, he told himself, but he lacked conviction. The first cuff closed around his wrist, Lillith’s delicate fingers forcing the pin into the slot. The metallic clink made his mouth go dry. He grasped the small bag Midnite had given him tighter in his fist. A quick sweep of Lillith’s arm knocked the pillows out of the way and John flopped flat on the mattress, his arm pulled tight above his head. She threaded the chain behind the thick wooden post and clamped the other cuff on his wrist.

  
“Give them a rattle,” she prompted.

  
John struggled hard but the chains held. Lillith grabbed the second set of shackles and circled to the foot of the bed.

  
“Is this really necessary?” Chas asked.

  
“It’s for your safety lover, and his.”

  
John frowned and glanced over at Midnite. He had covered the dresser in a bright red cloth, four thick white candles, one at each corner held it in place. He’d shed his white coat, revealing pristine white cloth pants underneath. His chest bare, the scorpion skull medallion glittered against his dark skin. A plain wooden bowl sat center on the altar and Midnite filled it with a black tar-like substance from his flask. He pulled out a few more boxes and vials, arranging them precisely in the available space. Last, he set a small but wicked looking blade over the top of the bowl. When he seemed satisfied with his tools he turned to Chas.

  
“Off with yours too Chas.”

  
Chas blanched, “What?"

  
“Take off your clothes.”

  
“Why?”

  
“This ritual requires a great deal of energy, more than I can safely provide on my own so I’ll need to draw upon an outside source.” Midnite’s eyes were merciless. “There is no greater source of energy than what occurs when two people are making love.”

  
Chas’s hands flew to the hem of his pants, clasping them as though he expected them to be ripped off of him. His wide eyes darted from face to face looking for salvation. Guilt drilled into John’s gut.

  
"Chas, I-" John choked on his own powerlessness. He turned to Midnite. "There has to be another option."

  
“I’m sorry my friend, but there isn't.”

  
Chas chewed his bottom lip, still holding on to his pants. A lump formed in John’s throat. Midnite’s charm had given him a measure of control but it had also given him the clarity to see how much Chas had endured for him already. It wasn’t fair to ask for more but as Midnite said they were out of options.

  
“Chas look at me.” John wanted to take the angel into his arms but the chains held him down. Chas raised his wide hazel eyes to John’s face. “Keep your eyes on me and it will be just the two of us. No one else matters.”

  
Chas hesitated a moment longer before popping the snap on his jeans. He shoved them down and off with a jerky movement.

  
"He's all locked up." Lillith announced, making her way around the altar to stand next to Midnite.

  
"It's time Chas. Get up on the bed," Midnite said.

  
Chas awkwardly climbed up, straddling John. His weight settled across John’s thighs, making the sheet pull tight against his groin.

  
"Are you okay?" John asked.

  
Chas leaned down, placing a soft answering kiss on Constantine's mouth.

  
"Get the lights."

  
Lillith flicked the wall switch, plunging them into darkness, broken only by the glow of the candles on Midnite's altar.

  
Midnite picked up a pouch of herbs, sprinkling them into a brazier made of bone. He then took a candle and set it ablaze, filling the room with a pungent smoke.

  
John’s breath came shallow and fast. The smoke filling the room irritated his nose and throat, the smell swampy and rank. Chas stroked his hands down John’s sides, and he arched into the touch. John tried to focus his attention on Chas but a dark foreboding pulled at him.

  
Midnite began a low prayer, using white powder to draw a symbol in the center of the altar. When he’d finished he rubbed the powder over his hands, coating them front and back. He picked up the wooden bowl from earlier, downing the contents in one long swallow. Energy surged in the air and something darker surged to life inside of John. He clamped down on the sweat-soaked bag in his hand. Chas watched Midnite work his magic tool. Midnite picked up the blade, grasping it in one hand while holding out his other to the succubus. Lillith obediently offered her bird-like wrist into his grasp.

  
“Are you ready?” Midnite asked her.

  
“More than ready.”

  
The metal flashed in the candlelight as the blade bit into the pale skin of Lillith’s wrist. Her vital fluid welled up around the rent edges and she let out a soft moan as Midnite turned her wrist over, dripping it into the bowl he had drunk from. After a minute or so he released her and turned the blade on himself, piercing his own own skin. He turned his wrist over the bowl, his blood combining with hers with a smoky hiss.

  
Chas had gotten hard from the mounting excitement and John moaned, wanting to take the hot flesh in his hands. His noise drew Chas’s attention and lust had gripped both of them. Chas lifted up on his knees, tugging the sheet down John’s body until skin met skin. Then he scooted forward, rubbing the tip of his penis over John’s own rampant erection.

  
“Oh fuck,” John whined. Being restrained heightened the sensations to nearly unbearable proportions and his eyes rolled up in his head. He rattled the chains, bringing three sets of eyes to the bedpost.

  
Caustic smoke pouring into the air, filling Constantine’s lungs until they burned. The pulsing power filling the room made him dizzy. Midnite began chanting, his voice rising and falling with an abrasive rhythm. The words grated against John’s nerves. The curse flared to defend itself and John snarled, startling Chas. John jerked at the restraints again, thrashing his head from side to side. The thunder of his blood drowned out Midnite’s words. Underneath the pulse a sinister whisper crept into John’s head. John struggled harder, no longer alone inside his head. Asmodeus loomed up like a solid shadow. He opened his mouth to speak, to beg for help but the shadow descended over him, plunging him into darkness.

 

#

 

A soft whine drew Chas’s attention and he watched wide eyed, as John’s hand went lax, letting the gris-gris he’d been clinging to fall to the floor. John changed before him, his body filling with corruption. It oozed out of John’s pores and Chas shrunk back, his breath catching in his throat. It took all his willpower to remain on the bed while his instincts screamed at him to flee before it touched him.

  
"Hello again, little bird."

  
Asmodeus’s voice slithered from between John lips and Chas covered his mouth with his hand to hold in the cry working it’s way up from his lungs. His eyes darted to Midnite and Lillith. The ritual held Midnite’s concentration and he swayed from side to side with no recognition. Lillith however had narrowed her eyes at Constantine, hatred and fear written all over her body. She crept forward, headed straight for the chains. She grabbed the cuffs, her shaking hands checking to make sure the pins were secure.

  
“I can smell your fear, Harlot,” Asmodeus taunted.

  
Lillith spat on the floor. “You wish asshole. We both know you won’t win this battle.”

  
Asmodeus laughed.

  
"What do I do?" Chas asked. His skin crawled at the thought of having to stay on the bed even a second longer.

  
"The chains will hold.” Lillith said before turning her cold, cruel gaze on him. “This is our best chance at saving John.”

  
“You realize what you’re asking me to do? It may be John’s body but John isn’t in control anymore,” Chas hissed. The urge to slap Lillith made his arm ache.

  
“The choice is yours. Ask yourself, is it worth it to save his life?”

  
Chas opened his mouth to retort but Asmodeus commanded his attention.

  
"Mmm, I’ve always wanted to fuck an angel.”

  
Bile rose up Chas’s throat and he turned back to the man between his legs.

  
"Oh, John," he gasped. Constantine's body had become a shell, a vessel for Asmodeus's filth. His soulful brown eyes had been replaced with two bottomless pits of lust. No trace of the man he loved remained. Chas clenched his fists, digging his nails into the flesh of his palms. Asmodeus couldn't have John. Lillith believed the ritual would work and Chas could see no other way to bring John back from this. It would be vile, but Chas hated seeing John forced into puppeting the demon's sick desires. He had made a promise. He touched John's face, hoping somewhere inside John could still hear him.

  
"I'm not going to leave you like this John."

  
Asmodeus sneered. "Don’t waste your time. He begged me to take him. He wants to be my slave"

  
"You're a liar."

  
"I give him more pleasure than you could ever hope to. Why don't you let me show you." He thrust up, drawing Chas's gaze to his swollen cock. "Get it nice and wet for me and I’ll fuck you."

  
Disgust clenched Chas’s insides. Midnite’s chant grew steadily louder, filling the room and booming inside Chas’s head. They couldn’t move forward until he did, until he gave Midnite the energy he needed. He had to fuck Asmodeus but he didn't have to give the demon the satisfaction of degrading him. He stuck two fingers in his mouth, coating them liberally with saliva before reached back to probe his own entrance. His ass was a bit tender from the rough use but his fingers slid in without much protest.

  
“Eager to get my cock inside you?” Asmodeus taunted.

  
Chas’s body tensed at the ugliness of those words but he still pushed forward. Once his muscles were soft and yielding he pulled out. This time he spit in the palms of his hand, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around John's hot flesh. He spread the fluid over the tip and down the shaft, not letting himself think about anything but saving John’s life.

  
The rattle of chains drew his attention. John’s head was craned forward, black eyes boring into Chas. “Hurry it up, I’m getting impatient.”

  
Asmodeus's struggles had wounded John and blood seeped down his forearms from beneath the iron manacles.

  
“Please John, please come back to me,” Chas whispered and he closed his eyes. He inched forward, centering John’s tip against his entrance. He lowered himself, tension making his body slow to open despite his preparation. Asmodeus didn’t want to wait. He snarled and shoved his hips up, clacking Chas’s teeth with the force of their bodies coming together.

  
“I told you, he’s already gone.”

  
Tears gathered at the corners of Chas’s eyes but he stubbornly held them back. Asmodeus thrust up into him, setting a brutal pace, a crazed expression contorting John’s features. He’d bitten his lips and bloody saliva coated John’s teeth and foamed at the corners of his mouth. Chas retreated inside himself, pushing away what was happening to his body.

  
Midnite began to sway in time with his chant, moving faster and faster as the tempo increased towards its crescendo. Lillith stood against the wall, her skin flushed, but her eyes never left the chains on John’s wrists.

  
Asmodeus reveled in Chas’s pain and degradation. A river of filth pouring from his mouth as he used Chas. All Chas could do was hold on, whispering prayers over and over, desperate for this nightmare to end. His traitorous body however betrayed him. It wasn’t John inside him yet his dick stood hard and quivering between his legs. Midnite stopped chanting, the silence more jarring than the strange words had been. He grabbed the bowl off the altar and came towards the bed, moving like a wraith, his skin blacker than ink. He crept forward until he stood at the head of the bed. Asmodeus snapped at Midnite, a deep growl reverberating in John’s chest. He reared up against the restraints and Chas had to squeeze his thighs against John's hips to keep John’s penis seated inside him.

  
"You can't have him," Asmodeus snarled.

  
"I was about to say the same thing to you, demon," Midnite's voice boomed in the small space.

  
Asmodeus gave a deranged roar, jerking his bonds so hard the bed itself heaved beneath them.

  
"Fight John. You are stronger than him," Chas cried, unable to stand seeing him under Asmodeus’s control for one second longer.

  
“Pitiful fool! The John Constantine you speak of doesn’t exist. He is selfish and weak, fit to be a pet and nothing more.”

  
His words are lies, Chas told himself, but a heavy ache settled in his chest. Asmodeus cruelly redoubled his efforts with John’s body, giving Chas no peace. The strokes drove deeper, caressing his prostate until Chas cried out despite himself. The thrusts were relentless and Chas’s orgasm caught him by surprise. The pulse sudden and sharp, more of a physical reaction than true pleasure. He trembled in silence, hot tears on his cheeks. John’s cock went rigid inside him followed by a gush of warmth in his bowels. They had both finished but the ritual had not. Was his torment over? Or would they have to keep going? John’s cock throbbed hard and menacing inside him.

  
Asmodeus had been lulled by pleasure and Midnite struck fast, pouring the smoking potion down Constantine’s throat. The demon gagged and tried to spit but Midnite clapped his hands over John’s nose and mouth, forcing him to swallow or choke and pass out. An agonized scream came from John’s throat and he reacted like he’d ingested hot lava.

  
“Stay with him Chas,” Midnite said.

  
Chas leaned forward to help Midnite restrain John while the blood potion and the curse waged war inside him.

  
“Lillith, quit fucking around and get his legs,” Midnite shouted.

  
John’s heart pounded erratically and Chas’s stomach clenched. Angry scarlet lines spider webbed beneath John’s skin as the potion pumped through his veins, lighting his blood on fire. John broke free from Midnite’s hold, filling the room with a din of howls and curses. Midnite leant down and spoke into John’s ear but Chas couldn’t hear what he said. Asmodeus’s screams became an unending wail and Chas covered his ears to shut out the noise.

  
“Damn you!” Midnite suddenly yelled. “Don’t let him beat you.”

  
Chas’s eyes widened in horror for he could feel it too. John had begun to weaken and slip away. Constantine’s heartbeat had faded to a tremulous throb, his breath coming shallow and fast. Asmodeus grew inside, his darkness pouring from every inch of John’s body.

  
“No!” Chas wailed and he reached for the light inside him. A soft glow burst forth from his skin. “You can do this John. I'm here, I'm right here. I'm not letting you go. I love you.” He wrapped his arms around John’s neck, pressing himself against his body to lend John his support.

  
“Your love is wasted,” Asmodeus rasped. “He does not return the emotion.”

  
Splinters of pain drove themselves into Chas’s heart. Don’t listen to him, he wants to hurt you. He poured forth his love for John instead, certain of his own feelings if nothing else. John’s heart continued to weaken til Chas couldn’t hear it at all. Still he pressed himself tighter, he would never let go. They would have to pry him away from John.

  
With a sudden start Constantine began to rebound. His heart thumped louder and his body began to convulse, the shudders so violent Chas worried his bones would shatter under the strain. John gave a gurgle and one last tremendous heave before going limp.

  
A tense silence followed, as Chas, Midnite, and Lillith waited to see if Asmodeus would rise again. Midnite let go first. He straightened and nodded at Chas and Lillith, a small smile on his face. Chas kept searching John’s body, scouring for any sign of Asmodeus’s taint, but all traces of the demon king’s darkness had fled. Constantine lay still, his eyes open but glassy, his breath deep and slow.

  
“Is he okay?”

  
“The potion had a strong sedative in it. He needs sleep to finish the healing.” Midnite walked back to the altar, picking up the blade and holding it over the flame from one of the candles. “Now to cleanse his wound.”

  
Chas slid to the side, his whole body jelly like and weak. He lay his head against John’s chest, savoring the now slow and steady pumping.

  
“This is going to look awful but I promise he can’t feel anything.” Chas looked up. Midnite held a glowing knife inches above the bite mark. The sharp scent of hot metal rushed up his nostrils. He grabbed John’s hand, holding it tight. The blade made contact with John’s skin, giving off a faint sizzle. The smell of cooked meat wafted into the air as Midnite sliced away the blighted flesh. Chas squeezed John’s hand, his own shoulder giving a sympathetic throb but John had no reaction. When he’d finished Midnite placed a bandage over the burn.

  
“Rest now, old friend,” he said, giving John a soft pat.

  
“How long is he going to be out?"

  
“The sedative will last for several hours.”

  
“Do you think he should go to the hospital?”

  
Midnite nodded. “Have him checked out by Dr. Archer when he wakes.”

  
Lillith edged past Midnite and unlocked the manacles. The metal fell away to reveal raw and bleeding flesh underneath.

  
“Lillith, do you have something I can clean those abrasions with?” Chas asked.

  
She nodded and headed out of the room to return a few minutes later holding a large first aid kit. She laid it on the bed next to him. Chas lifted the lid, rifling through the contents till he found what he needed to tend to John's wounds.

  
“Are you alright?”

  
The question startled Chas and he fumbled the roll of gauze in his hand. Midnite had finished loading his gear back into the duffel bag and stood next to the bed. He fixed Chas with a serious expression. Chas opened his mouth to answer but no words could describe the turmoil inside him. He’d managed to hold himself together but the pain hovered just beneath the surface like dark water under a thin coating of ice.

  
“I don’t know,” he finally answered.

  
“Do you want me to stay with him?”

  
Chas considered for a moment then shook his head. He wanted to be here when John woke up. He’d earned it. Besides he wouldn’t rest even if he went home.

  
“You saved his life tonight,” Midnite said. “Don’t let Asmodeus’s lies get to you. John cares for you very much.”

  
Chas nodded, his throat suddenly thick and choked.

  
“Try to get some sleep,” Midnite advised, patting him on the back. He hefted his duffel back over his shoulder and headed for the door.

  
“Can I get you anything?” Lillith asked.

  
“No.”

  
“Well then, sleep tight” Lillith said and she turned out the lights.

  
Once the door shut behind them Chas collapsed. He spent a long time laying in the dark listening to John’s slow, even breaths. The chaos of this night had scoured him, leaving emptiness in its wake. The darkness comforted him, hiding him from reality. He wrapped the blanket around himself, exhaustion pulling him under before he could acknowledge the pain in his heart.


	17. Wormwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas and John deal with the fallout from the ritual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone. Well it has been a little more than two months since my last update but life is beginning to calm down and I have managed to get chapter 17 ready. Hooray *throws confetti* I want to thank everyone who has been waiting for sticking around and I really hope you enjoy this chapter. This chapter has no specific warnings.

Chapter 17: Wormwood

 

  
A sharp pain throbbed between John’s neck and shoulder, rising with the tempo of his heartbeat. The pain helped free him from the binding threads of drugged sleep. Wakefulness, however, had it's drawbacks, each ache and pain now demanded its share of his attention. He slit open his eyes. In the darkness, dim outlines of unfamiliar furniture greeted him. For a moment panic stiffened his whole body, until he recognized the silk screen in the corner of the room. Asmodeus hadn’t gotten him, but did the demon still lurk within him? He waited, searching his body for any sign of Asmodeus. He was battered and burnt but the silence inside his head had a peaceful quality to it. No writhing lust, no hideous control-shattering demon voice. Relief swept over him. He tried to sit up but his muscles screamed in protest and he flopped back with an undignified groan.

  
"Hmm," Chas mumbled in his sleep and rolled over.

  
A warm hand slid over John’s belly and Constantine smiled. His gaze traveled up the curve of Chas's arm, coming to rest on his sleep-slacked face and John’s heart did a little flip. Chas had saved his life last night. Midnite and Lillith had been essential as well but deep down inside John knew without Chas he would belong to Asmodeus. He scooted closer, hissing out his discomfort through his teeth. His hand swept up, brushing a stray lock of brown hair from Chas’s temple. He had almost no recollection of what had happened after Asmodeus pulled him into the darkness. He did remember Midnite pouring some kind of searing hot liquid down his throat at one point. The potion had weakened Asmodeus but not enough for John to free himself. He had been certain he would be swallowed whole by the enraged demon. Then Chas’s voice had called out to him

 _You can do this John. I'm here, I'm right here. I'm not letting you go. I love you_.

John had found a strength in those words he hadn’t known existed inside him. With Chas’s love buoying him up he had cast Asmodeus out. He cupped Chas’s cheek, a gust of warm breath ghosting over his wrist. Chas loved him. He had never allowed himself to see it before but in that moment Chas’s love had become his lifeline. A wry grin settled on John’s face. He’d been wrong about a lot of things in his life, but perhaps the thing he’d been most wrong about was Chas.

  
Chas’s eyes fluttered open and focused John’s face. He shied away, tension filling his body. John frowned.

  
“Chas?”

  
The sound of his voice made Chas flush and he sat up, turning his face away from John.

  
“How are you feeling?” Chas asked, his voice a bit unsteady.

  
“Like I got worked over,” John admitted. Chas flinched at his choice of words.

  
They sat in silence for several minutes, the darkness of the room surrounding them. Finally Chas nodded and got up, rooting around on the floor for his discarded clothes. When he’d fastened his pants he crossed the room and flicked on the lightswitch. Bright light poured down from the ceiling and John shielded his eyes with a hand. Chas gasped and John looked over to see the angel staring at him in open-mouthed dismay.

  
“John, you look awful.”

  
Constantine glanced down at himself. Deep bruises marred his arms and chest, the purples and blues mottling his pale skin. Bandages covered both wrists but the sting of raw flesh let him know what he would find underneath. Another bandage covered the deep throbbing pain on his neck. Chas came back over to him, sitting gingerly on the bed. His eyes swept up and down John’s body and the lines around his mouth grew grimmer.

  
John tried to lighten the mood “At least I look as bad as I feel.”

  
Chas sighed.

  
"Thank you." John said. He took Chas’s hand. "For everything."

 

“You don’t have to...”

  
John interrupted, “Yes I do.”

  
Chas’s hand trembled in his grasp. He let John hold him but his eyes never touched John’s face. Why wouldn’t Chas look at him? John tried to push himself upright, sick of the helplessness of lying on his back. Pain greeted his efforts and he floundered, grunting in frustration. Chas scrambled to help and together they managed to get John propped upright with pillows.

  
Suddenly Chas went stiff, his hands still on John’s shoulders. John looked up and the angel stared down into his lap, crimson bleeding out from his cheeks, covering his face. In the struggle to get upright the blankets had pooled low on John’s thighs, exposing his genitals. Chas stared between his legs with a strange mixture of desire, embarrassment, and wariness. John tugged the silken covers up over his lap and Chas realized he had been staring. Had what happened last night really left Chas so shaken? Chas spoke before John could ask.

  
“We need to get you to the doctor,” Chas said.

  
“A hot bath and a stiff drink will fix me up more than a doctor,” John tried, but Chas glowered at him. “Oh alright. Help me find my clothes.”

  
Chas gathered the clothes they had discarded the night before, sorting John’s things into a small pile on the bed. John’s eyes never left Chas. He decided not to push for answers now. He would wait until they had gotten some distance, at least physically, from the darkness which had overtaken them last night.

  
Once Chas had all John’s clothes arranged on the bed they set to the onerous task of getting them back on. Chas held his shirt out and John pulled a face. Its once crisp, white surface now marred with sweat and blood. He took it, sliding his good arm through the sleeve first before easing it around to the other side. The wound at his neck pulled, threatening to split, and John yelped.

  
“Let me do it,” Chas said, his hands gentle as he helped John into his shirt.

  
“What the hell happened to my bite? It feels way worse than before,” he questioned, fingers probing the bandage.

  
“Midnite used a hot knife to cut away the tainted tissue. He said the wound had to be purified.”

  
“Of course he did.”

  
Chas laughed softly in reply. He did up the buttons on John’s shirt and then reached for his pants and underwear. Their progress was slow and awkward but they managed to get Constantine looking respectable enough. John then slid one arm across Chas’s shoulders and together they wiggled and heaved until he got his feet under him. He panted, leaning heavily on Chas, thankful for his strength.

  
“Ready to go?” Chas asked.

  
John nodded. “We should find Lillith first and say goodbye. I’d feel wrong sneaking out after all she did.”

  
Chas’s jaw tightened and John immediately wished he’d chosen his words better. After a moment of unpleasant silence Chas nodded and they made their way out into the hall. A heavy silence hung over the Den’s lower floor, disturbed only by their shuffling footsteps. John figured even demons had to sleep some time.

  
Since Lillith had given them her personal quarters John had no idea where to look for her. He stared down the hall at the line of indistinguishable doors when a voice called out.

  
“Sleep well boys?”

  
Chas stiffened against John as Lillith approached them, from the entrance.

  
“As well as can be expected,” John replied.

  
Lillith laughed. “I’m a bit surprised to see you up and about already.”

  
“He needs to see a doctor,” Chas grumbled.

  
Lillith looked at Chas and her expression softened.

  
“Of course.” She stepped aside, giving them room to pass.

  
John hung back though, determined to acknowledge her help. “Lillith, I don’t remember a good chunk of what happened last night, but I know you guys saved my life.”

  
Lillith held up her hand before he could continue. “I told you already, I was paying back a debt. It would’ve looked bad if I’d let you die.”

  
John chuckled under his breath. Lillith remained as mercenary as ever.

  
“Still, I want to say thank you.”

  
“Your welcome.”

  
John would have said more but Chas looked anxiously at the exit and he relented. He nodded at Lillith and they turned to leave. They were halfway down the hall when she called out again.

  
“Asmodeus isn’t going to stop, you know.”

  
“Neither am I,” John shot back.

  
“That’s what I figured. When you find the son of a bitch let me know. I think it’s time I showed him he can’t bully me anymore.”

  
John stopped and turned, staring at Lillith. Now this he hadn’t expected. Her green eyes met his, hard and resolute. John smiled.

  
“I’ll be in touch.”

  
Lillith waved and then walked on towards her quarters. John and Chas made their way out. The incubus guarding the door gave them a once over when they knocked. John braced himself for a snide remark but the demon let them pass unharassed. As they walked up the stairs some of the tension in John’s muscles melted away, and by the time they stepped through the front door and sunlight washed over his body John’s lips parted in an unabashed grin.

 

~@~

 

  
Midnite had given Dr Archer a heads up so when they arrived at Ravenscar she’d been expecting them. She bustled them into one of the treatment rooms and stripped off John’s clothes which she threw into the trash, ignoring his protests. After starting an IV she began cleaning and re-bandaging his wounds. Constantine submitted, muttering a steady stream of complaints and threats which earned him nothing but patronizing looks.

  
Chas stayed silent and out of the way, the frown lines on his face growing ever deeper, triggering a corresponding sinking in John’s gut. He wracked his brain trying to put together the missing pieces from last night. There had to be some explanation for Chas’s behavior. John had been rough. He could remember clearly his desperation when they’d first come together. Chas had never seemed afraid of him though. However, his memory failed after his orgasm, replaced with darkness and fire. Had he hurt Chas while Asmodeus held him in the dark? The intimacy which had blossomed between them had withered in the morning light and John had no idea how to revive it.

  
Once the liter of fluids was finished Dr Archer gave John a spare set of scrubs, an injection of antibiotics, and some pain pills before sending him on his way with strict orders to rest and let his body heal.

  
They left Ravenscar, stepping out into the long trailing fingers of late afternoon sunlight. Chas’s cab was pleasantly warm and John leaned back in the seat as they drove towards his home, staring absently out the window.

  
“Stop messing with it! If you keep touching the bandage, it’s going to come off and your wound will get infected,” Chas scolded, swatting John’s hand away from the crisp new bandage on his neck.

  
They had been in the car for less than ten minutes and already Chas had snapped at him half a dozen times. John gave a sheepish look and folded his hands back in his lap. Chas turned back to the road, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white.

  
When the bowling alley came into view Chas parked the cab right out front. The after-work rush crowded the street. John’s pain meds had kicked in and he found himself buoyed inside by the noise and bustle of the people. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of another and soon the door of his apartment stood before him. He’d left it unlocked in his mad dash to Lillith’s so he pushed it open and walked inside. Chas, however, lurked in the doorway, tension rolling off him in waves. John watched him for a minute, hoping Chas would open up about what was bothering him on his own. After a second Chas shook himself.

  
“Here, I’ll get you settled in bed so you can get some rest.” He took a step towards John.

  
“Chas-” John started but Chas sensed his motives and cut him off.

  
“Don’t argue. Dr. Archer said you need to let yourself heal.”

  
“Chas I’m not-”

  
“Go get changed and I’ll bring you some water. You need to keep hydrating.” Chas moved to walk past John but Constantine grabbed him.

  
“Chas, stop.” He put his hands on either side of Chas’s face, tipping his chin up. “I need you to talk to me, please.”

  
Chas let out a tremulous breath. “I’m fine John.”

  
“Clearly you’re not.”

  
Chas wrenched away from him. He stared at John with the belligerence of an angry goat.

  
“Well what did you expect after the shit you pulled last night?”

  
John frowned. “I don’t remember everything from last night. Some of what I do remember is a mess, but so much of it is black. Tell me what happened. Did I hurt you?"

  
Chas shook his head, turning away from John. “Did you forget leaving me at Griffith park to go and throw yourself on the tender mercies of a succubus? And then when I found you two together you’d let her steal my form.” Chas whirled around. “Or am I not supposed to be hurt by those things?”

  
John winced at the accusations. He’d foolishly hoped Chas would consider the pain he’d suffered as penance enough for his stupidity.

  
“You’re right, I acted like ass and I’m sorry, but I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to keep you safe.”

  
Chas narrowed his eyes. “Don’t, okay? Don’t pretend like you running away was for me. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I don’t need you to protect me.”

  
John blew out a long breath through his nose. The words and feelings were all tangled up in his head and everything he said kept coming out wrong.

  
“I’m sorry,” he tried again. “I shouldn’t make excuses. I just… I’m sorry for everything.”

  
Chas softened at this and John stepped towards him again. He reached out to draw Chas closer to him but the angel balked, backing up and shaking his head.

 

“It’s more than that. Last night I realize you were sick and hurt and overcome by lust so what we did came from a place of mindless physical need. But for me it was more. I’m sure you know how I feel about you John, I’ve never been very good at hiding it.”

  
“I… I” John’s tongue no longer seemed to fit inside his mouth. He stood there gaping like a fish unable to say the words Chas needed to hear. They caught in his throat like damp tissue paper. Wounded anger shone back at him from Chas’s eyes as the silence stretched between them. John clenched his hands into tight fists. He had to give something here or he would lose Chas forever.

  
"Chas, please believe me when I say what we did meant more to me than you know." John's voice came out rough and low. Chas's lower lip trembled, and the naked vulnerability on the angel's face made John’s chest tight. He leaned forward, capturing Chas's mouth with his own.

  
Chas went still. John’s lips pressed against him but the angel made no move to return his kiss. John’s stomach hardened and after a moment Chas pushed him back.

  
“I can’t do this,” he said. He blinked his eyes like they stung and stared at the floor.

  
A hollow sort of pain struck John under his ribs making it hard to breathe. He ran a hand through his messy hair. He wanted Chas to say something, anything to give him an idea of how to fix what he had broken. But Chas just stood there, his throat working like he was on the verge of being sick. Panicked words came tumbling out of John’s mouth.

  
“I get it, I fucked up big time and I’m not asking you to forget but-”

  
“It’s not what you did John,” Chas said, his voice soft. “It’s what he did.”

  
“Who?” John asked, then his stomach plummeted. “Asmodeus?”

  
Chas made a strangled noise. “He took control of you during the ritual. I wanted to stop but Midnite needed the energy and you were getting weaker by the minute. I didn’t have a choice.”

  
“Oh God.” John’s entire body sparked with violence, and he wasn’t sure who he wanted to hurt the most. Asmodeus had violated Chas with his body. The mere thought made him want to break the demon, to slowly, painstakingly tear him apart until what was left of him begged to be sent back to Hell. He moved toward Chas but pulled back when he flinched. Of course. How could John expect him to find comfort in the body which had hurt him? Constantine stood there helpless, staring at Chas from across the chasm which spread between them.

  
“I’m glad it worked John. I’m glad you’re okay but I’m shredded inside.” John said nothing and Chas continued. “I need some time to deal with this. I’m not walking away but I can’t snap my fingers and make it all better.”

  
John nodded, his whole body rooted to the floor. He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid if he opened his mouth he would say the wrong thing, somehow make Chas hurt worse. Chas waited for a minute before he moved, taking a deep breath as he came towards John. He took John’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  
“John, I still-” He stopped, his voice going thick, and John’s heart clenched. For a brief moment it seemed Chas might break down but he rallied. “Anyway, thank you.”

  
Then he was gone, leaving John with the warmth of their touch fading from his skin.


	18. Intents of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Chas each look for reasons to hold on to what they have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I'm back with a new chapter much sooner than I expected. We are getting closer to the end with only 11 more chapters left. There are no specific warnings for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 18: Intents of the Heart

 

  
John stood in his entryway, breathing through the urge to chase after Chas. Once he was sure he had himself under control he noticed Chas had left the door open. He closed it, taking the opportunity to lean against the wood for support. His gaze traveled around the apartment. A flash of light rose caught his attention and he frowned. Angela’s coat hung draped over the side of his couch.

  
“You can come out,” he called.

   
The bathroom door’s hinges squeaked as Angela peeked her head out and gave him an embarrassed smile.

  
“Spying on me?”

  
“No. But I do appear to have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time recently.”

  
She crept out, and John noticed her wet hair. She pulled the damp locks back into a ponytail as she walked over to him. Her eyes ran up and down his body, taking in his battered appearance, concern making her face soft and sad. John straightened, hoping to appear steadier; instead his body chose to sway drunkenly without the support of the door. Angela rushed forward, catching him around the middle.

  
"Woah there, let's get you over to the couch."

  
"I'm okay. I just need a minute," John protested.

  
"You can have your minute, on the couch."

  
She steered him through the kitchen and got him settled comfortably before plopping down next to him. They sat together in silence for a long time and John found himself grateful for her presence.

  
“Did you stay here last night?” John asked. There were more important things to discuss. He owed her an explanation for his behavior last night, but he shied away from speaking of it yet. Angela laughed.

  
“No, I got called into work last night. To be honest I stopped by to check up on you. I tried the door when no one answered and figured I would make use of your shower, since the water in my building is busted.” The humor faded from her face then. “The city is going to Hell, John.”

  
Constantine studied her face, there were dark smudges under her eyes, her skin waxy and pale.

  
“How bad is it?”

  
“If he’s trying to create an army, it’s working. Every precinct in the city is packed with rapists and sexual offenders, and the calls just keep coming in. We’re running out of places to put them all.”

  
“He’s drowning us in our our own lust.”

  
Angela nodded. She took John’s hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. John took a deep breath, working up the courage to tell her about what had happened to him but Angela spoke before him.

  
“Are you hungry? All I had to eat today is coffee and half a danish. I’m starving."

   
The mention of food brought John’s body to attention and his stomach let out a loud, indecent groan. John laughed.

  
“I could eat.”

  
“Good. I’ll order some takeout.”

  
#

 

  
Half an hour later they sat at John’s table devouring the mountain of Indian food Angela had ordered. While waiting for the delivery Angela had bullied John into letting her clean him up. She had washed his hair in the sink and, after reminding him she’d seen him naked plenty of times, helped him change into a clean t-shirt and sweat pants. John reached out for one of the styrofoam containers and he noticed Angela was no longer eating. She stared at the food in front of her, chewing her lip, her fork moving absently about the plate.

  
“There’s something I should tell you.”

  
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

  
“After you left last night I hung around for a while. It seems stupid now but I thought you might need my help. Anyway, Chas showed up and when I answered the door he got the idea we were hooking up again. “

  
John swallowed hard, a muscle working in his jaw.

  
“He got upset and I went after him to explain. I couldn’t let him think you were some heartless jerk.”

  
“Because of my spotless reputation?”

  
“Because I know you love him,” she shot back.

  
John sputtered. He had never openly acknowledged his feelings for Chas to anyone. Angela crossed her arms, her face telling him he’d been foolish to think he’d kept the truth from her. The familiar urge to brush it aside took hold of him, denial already surging up his throat, but Angela shook her head. There would be no more hiding between them. John’s shoulders sagged and he nodded for her to go on.

  
“John, I told him you have feelings for him.”

  
John’s belly fluttered with the moth wings of guilt and he looked away. Poor Chas. Angela had given him hope and the strength to endure last night's pain and save John’s life. Sharp claws raked his heart. And when Chas had looked to him for confirmation of his love John had failed him. John let the fork slip from his fingers, self loathing leaving him sick.

  
“Are you angry?” Angela asked, her eyes going wide. “I realize it wasn’t mine to tell but he was so hurt.”

  
“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself.” John held out his hand to her and she glanced at it before looking back for confirmation. “Go ahead.”

  
She took his hand and opened the connection. She stiffened with a soft cry, her eyes rolling back in her skull. John gritted his teeth, willing himself to be still while she sifted through his burnt and broken memories. When she released him she had to grab the table to steady herself and they both sat there breathing hard.

  
When John found his voice he said, “I hurt him, Angie.”

  
“Well, yes, but not because you wanted to. You weren’t in control, Chas knows that.”

  
“Don’t make excuses for me. Asmodeus is going to pay for what he did, but I fucked up too. When I kissed him… he’s never been so far away from me. What if this breaks him?”

  
“You’re not giving him enough credit. It will be hard for a while but you’re doing the right thing. Chas loves you and he’s resilient, he’ll come back to you.”

  
“Do you really believe that?” John questioned.

 

She smiled. “Yes.”

  
John let out the breath he had been holding, a small kernel of hope springing to life inside him.

  
"But you need to stop running away from your feelings for him." She touched his chin and he raised his dark eyes to her face. "Why didn’t you tell him you love him?”

  
“It’s not that simple,” John said.

  
“So explain it to me, because from where I sit it seems simple enough. He loves you and you love him.”

  
“You saw what happened to him last night. Being with me is bad for him.”

  
“Oh, bullshit! Chas told you himself he doesn’t want to be protected from you. Let him in, even if it means he sees the ugly parts of you. Trust him."

  
"I do trust him." John snapped. How could he not trust Chas after all they had been through together?

  
"Then show him how much he means to you. Show him you want him in your life."

  
"He said he needs space." John ran his fingers through his hair. Already the voice of fear inside him was hard at work smothering the small hope Angela had given him. Life had taught John it was dangerous to let himself hope. Could he handle it if he put himself out there and Chas turned away?

  
“So give him some space. He is hurt and afraid and while I’m sure it sucks knowing you played a part in hurting him, withholding your love isn’t the answer. Don’t pressure him, just be there for him. Keep your anger, and guilt, and expectations out of it.”

  
John nodded but doubt still swirled inside him.

  
Angela shook her head, extending a hand across the table to him. “John, all you can do is offer yourself to him and hope when he’s ready, he’ll accept.”

  
John swallowed hard. “How can you say that and sound so calm?”

  
Angela laughed. She came over and wrapped her arms around him. John let her comfort him, burying his face in her shoulder.

  
#

  
Chas sensed his visitor before he got to his room. Uriel’s power and presence were magnified by the Church’s hallowed walls. Chas stopped outside his door, suddenly aware he hadn’t showered. The scents of sex and blood clung to his skin. Uriel would disapprove. Already Chas could picture the look of paternal disappointment of Uriel’s face. Anger rumbled inside him like a thunderhead and Chas clenched his jaw. Anger was useless against a being like Uriel and Chas refused to act like a temperamental child. He forced himself to relax, taking slow even breaths through his nose. When he had himself under control he opened the door to his room and stepped inside. The room had previously been used for storage. The walls were bare cement and the only natural light came from a dirty window well set in the east wall. Uriel stood in silence, looking over the small collection of personal items arranged on top of Chas’s dresser. They were all he’d managed to pilfer back after his death. The tall man had his hands clasped loosely, his pale wings curving behind him, the tips of his feathers brushing the floor. He turned when Chas entered, his blue eyes so light they looked almost silver.

  
“You look unwell."

  
Chas shrugged. "Facing a demon takes it out of you." Despite his efforts, insolence crept into his voice. His ego was still smarting from their last conversation.

  
"Asmodeus is not yours to face." Uriel’s words bristled with censure.

  
Chas gave a small smile. So the elder had come to collect his wayward sheep. Well, Chas had his own ideas about his duty.

  
"So I'm supposed to let him infect humans with his lust? Let him murder indiscriminately? I can't believe that's right. I won’t."

  
"We are sworn to obey the balance until such time as a higher power commands us otherwise."

  
Chas's wings bristled and his hands clenched. It was too bitter to swallow.

  
"What do you suggest I do? Turn the other cheek?"

  
"We do what we have always done, we endeavor to show the humans the strength of God's love. Work to break the influence of evil upon them. A direct conflict with the demons would lead to disaster." Uriel moved to stand in front of Chas, towering over him.

  
"In case you haven't noticed, disaster is already here."

  
Uriel paused at this, something moving in the depths of his pale eyes. He turned and walked to the small window, the late afternoon light trickled in through the grimy glass.

  
"I admit Asmodeus's power is intimidating. They are succumbing to his filth much faster than I thought possible." For a second Uriel looked tired and Chas could see that the humans’ suffering was an immense weight for the other angel to bear. "But we must not cave to violent desires. Your actions with John Constantine are unacceptable."

  
Chas snorted. "What actions are you referring to?"

  
"I do not begrudge you your infatuation with him. Sex is not forbidden to us and it is not uncommon for those who have recently been mortal to indulge. Most outgrow the need, but some never do. What I am referring to is you assisting him in this conflict. It is his right to challenge this evil, but you, you have no place in his fight," Uriel said, still staring out into the sun.

  
Chas shook his head and sat down on the edge of his bed. Uriel was wrong. He did have a place in this fight, right next to John. He understood the madness in a war between Heaven and Hell but God couldn't mean for them to stand aside and watch the humans fall either.

  
"Yes, I do."

  
"You are a fool.” Uriel turned and headed for the door. He stopped next to the bed, fixing Chas with a hard stare. “There will be a price for your actions Chas, are you sure you are willing to pay it?"

  
"I am."

  
"Even if it means being severed from him forever?"

  
Chas's stomach went cold and he looked up into Uriel's icy eyes.

  
“That’s not going to happen.”

  
“Control is an illusion Chas. You too must submit to God’s will.” Uriel stroked a hand through his hair and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Chas said nothing in reply and Uriel sighed. He left without another word.

  
Chas sat for a long time, unmoving. Exhaustion dragged at him in a way he had not experienced since he’d died. So he let himself remain still, giving his battered mind and body a chance to rest.

  
Almost an hour passed before Chas got up and undressed. He moved in a trance, leaving his clothes in a pile next to the bed. He grabbed a towel down from the top shelf of his closet and went to his door, opening it a crack. Father Levin’s footsteps creaked on the floor above him. His privacy secured he dashed down the hall to the bathroom.

  
Once inside Chas set his towel on the toilet before he pulled back the shower curtain. He turned the knob until the water in the shower filled the tiny bathroom with steam. He noticed he was trembling though he had no idea when it had started. Flashes of last night hit him with glancing blows and he tried his best not to think. He jumped into the shower and let scalding water peel away the grime covering his body. Taking his shower scrubber he attacked his skin, rubbing until his body was pink and chaffed in an effort to feel clean again. When the water cooled from hot to tepid he forced himself to step out. Mechanically he dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist.

  
On the way back to his room he came upon a note taped to his door from Father Levin, inviting him to dinner. Chas left it there and went inside, locking the door behind him. 


	19. Those That Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus regroups, and John considers his options for moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I am in the process of doing a major rewrite on the third act of this story so I am very excited to have this chapter up and ready for you. No specific warnings for this chapter. I hope you are all enjoying the story and thank you to all who are reading. Extra hugs to those who have left kudos or reviewed.

Chapter 19: Those That Seek

 

  
“He left Lillith’s place several hours ago. The angel was with him.” Balthazar spoke softly, standing well out of Asmodeus’s reach while he delivered his news. Since Asmodeus’s claws had sunk deep into the upholstery of his chair he couldn’t fault his servant’s fear. He’d been close with Constantine, so close, only to have his prize snatched out of his hands by a ragtag group of meddling assholes. He raked his claws back, the rip of fabric not nearly as satisfying as tearing flesh. Orange eyes landed on Balthazar.

  
“Where is he now?”

  
“At his apartment when I left him.”

  
Asmodeus smirked.

  
“Well, then it seems I’ll have to be more persuasive.” He stood, eyes narrowing when his movement made Balthazar flinch. The battery powered lanterns gave off bubbles of white light, illuminating the slack faces of his human thralls. They crowded around his chair and he strode through their pawing hands to an ancient wooden desk set back against the concrete wall. Two lanterns sat on top and Asmodeus grabbed the thick leather-bound notebook lying between them. He opened it and skimmed the pages till he found the one he wanted. A miniature version of the seal Elliot Litchfield had created to contain him sprawled in intricate detail over two pages. The doctor had been a brilliant man. The seal had performed perfectly, but Dr Litchfield had failed to anticipate how weak he would be before the salvation Asmodeus had offered him.

  
He took a pen from the top drawer and drew with precision, careful to make his strokes indistinguishable from Elliot’s own delicate artistry. The alterations he made were subtle, not enough to draw the attention of anyone not familiar with the seal. When he’d finished he snapped the journal shut and walked back through his throng of worshipers to where Balthazar leaned against one of the rough concrete pillars. Asmodeus penned the half breed in with his body enjoying half-terrified, half-needy whine Balthazar let out.

  
“I want you to take this to Dr. Litchfield’s apartment and hide it. Make it good, somewhere it could have escaped a police search.”

  
Balthazar reached out for the journal but Asmodeus caught his hand, pricking his talons into his servant’s skin.

  
“Master?” Balthazar whispered.

“Leave no trace of yourself there. When Constantine comes I don't want anything to tip him off."

  
Balthazar nodded. Without warning Asmodeus pulled Balthazar into a violent kiss, erasing the space between their bodies. His servant melted, body trained to respond to Asmodeus’s lust. By the time he released him, Balthazar had become a puddle of need. Asmodeus pushed the journal into his hands and Balthazar slid it into an inner pocket on his coat. Balthazar opened his mouth like he wanted to ask something but he thought better of it and snapped his lips closed.

  
“Ezra,” Asmodeus barked over his shoulder.

  
The darkness rippled and shuffled as the lithe demon made her way across the platform. She shivered visibly as she approached Asmodeus.

  
“I have a special job for you, my sweet. Balthazar is going to leave a present for Constantine in Elliot Litchfield’s apartment and I want you to convince our exorcist to go back there and look around. But you must be careful to make him think it’s his idea.”

  
“Master, how am I supposed-” Ezra started but Asmodeus backhanded her across the face.

  
“Use your brain you halfwit. I don’t care what you have to do, just make it happen,” he snapped. Ezra dropped to her knees, a bright spot of blood appearing in the corner of her mouth.

  
He stared down at her pitiful show of submission, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He rubbed himself against Balthazar. The answering hardness at his servant’s groin made him consider dragging Balthazar back to his bed to satisfy the fire in his blood. No, his plan had to be set in motion. There would be time to fuck Balthazar silly later. Asmodeus leaned in, swiping his tongue over the pulse point in Balthazar's neck, the flutter of his heartbeat arousing him. He realized Ezra still knelt next to them.

  
“I suggest you get to it or I’ll find someone else,” his eyes blazed, making the threat clear. She scrambled to her feet and fled without another word.

  
Failure had a bite Asmodeus was not eager to taste again. This time he would take no chances. This time he would use bait. John Constantine would be his slave. With John under his control his victory would be assured and humanity would fall. Asmodeus grinned.

  
“One last thing Balthazar,” Asmodeus said, “I want you to show me where his psychic lives.”

 

#

  
The thundering bassline of the music throbbed in time with the headache which had spread down the entire left side of John’s face. He flopped forward, laying his face against the musty pages of Midnite’s copy of the _Ars Goetia_. He had spent almost every minute of the last two days in Midnite’s dank, cluttered basement poring over grimoires looking for the seal Elliot had used to summon Asmodeus.

  
“Can I get something for what ails you?”

  
John grunted in reply to Ezra’s question. She stepped into his field of vision leaning down to peer into his eyes. Her black brows were drawn together in concern but the sparkle in her eyes told him she enjoyed seeing him in pain.

  
“Water, please,” he croaked. He wanted to ask her to turn the damn music down, but he knew he’d be overruled by Midnite. He’d walked over after breakfast this morning and already the club had been packed, forcing him to squish his way through the mob to get downstairs. John suspected some of them never went home.

  
“Just water?”

  
Her incredulity shamed him. “Yes. Please.”

  
“Coming right up,” she chirped, patting him on the back. After she left, John heaved himself upright, commanding his bleary eyes to focus on the seal on the page in front of him. Angela had included pictures from Elliot’s crime scene in the flash drive she’d given him and he’d printed out several photos of the seal for reference. But Midnite’s extensive collection of grimoires hadn’t yet yielded a match. He’d found similarities in several of the designs and he’d separated those books out into a smaller stack to his left.

  
Ezra came back in, setting an ornate silver tray laid out with a pitcher, an ice bucket and two glasses on the table. John looked up as she poured him a glass and he noticed her eyes kept sliding over to the book in front of him.

  
“What are you doing down here in the tomb?" she asked, handing him the glass. “Your seat upstairs has been lonely.”

  
John took a sip, the cold water shooting right down to his gut.

  
“Thank you. I'm looking for a summoning seal that looks like this one?" He nodded in the direction of the photos lying next to him. She leaned in front of him to get a better look. A heavy scent of sex wafted off her body and John leaned back, embarrassed. Another darker smell lurked underneath, curling up his nostrils and spiking his heart rate. He frowned. He’d smelled the scent before. A memory of darkness, of pleasure and pain, hovered on the edges of his mind but before he could grasp it Ezra interrupted him.

  
"I've never seen anything like it before,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “What's it for?"

  
"It was designed to protect the summoner from a demon, in this case our friend Asmodeus."

  
The corners of her mouth twitched when he said the demon’s name.

  
"Could you copy it from the pictures?"

  
"There's more to it than copying the lines. A seal may need to face a certain direction or be drawn with a specific material. Some must be activated by an incantation." John shook his head. "When demons are involved it's never simple."

  
"Oh, well who drew this one?" Ezra’s voice had gone tight. John wondered if Asmodeus frightened other demons as much as humans.

  
"A man named Elliot Litchfield. He was a friend of mine."

  
"You should ask him about it."

  
"He's dead." John swallowed hard. "Asmodeus killed him."

  
She paused for a moment, teeth scraping the black lipstick off her lower lip.

  
"So the seal doesn't work then?"

  
"No, I think it works." John picked up a high resolution photo of the lower right quadrant of the seal. "Right here, you see how the outer edge has been slashed?" She nodded without looking. "I think Asmodeus convinced Elliot to sabotage the seal."

  
"If it has to be so specific would your friend have written it down somewhere? Or was he one of those people with a photographic memory?"

  
"If he wrote it down then he hid it well because the police found no mention of it in the journals they recovered." John had wanted to look over Elliot's journals himself but Angela had told him flat out it wasn't going to happen. She'd sent him pictures of several cryptic passages where Elliot spoke of a disease taking hold within him but John had been unable to figure out what he meant. It infuriated him. The muscles in his shoulders tightened like a knot.

  
"H-have you looked for it? You might be able to find his secret hiding place since you knew him," Ezra stuttered a bit.

  
John had thought the same thing but Weiss had made damn sure John couldn’t get anywhere near the crime scenes. Of course with Asmodeus’s influence sending sex crimes through the roof there was a chance he could break in without getting noticed. It would be taking a big risk. If they caught him there, even Angela couldn’t save him.

  
"It might be worth checking out if this turns out to be a dead end. The cops have his apartment sealed though."

  
"Guess you'll have to be sneaky then," she said.

  
Before John could reply Midnite opened the door and Ezra pushed away from the table and hurried off without another word. John scrunched his brow after her.

  
"I wondered when you would make your way down here," John called. Midnite held the door for Ezra, turning back to John once she’d departed.

  
“What did you say to her to make her look so ashen?” he asked walking over to John with a wolfish smile on his face. John had no time to answer before he found himself yanked into a rough embrace.

  
"Ahh, be gentle with me," he yelped.

  
Without asking Midnite unbuttoned the top of his shirt and pulled it aside. His calloused fingers pulling up the edge of the bandage to check John’s wound.

  
"You went to Dr. Archer, right?"

  
"Yes mom."

  
"Does it hurt much?"

  
"It's sore, but then again you did carve me up with a scalding hot knife, so I guess it's to be expected. I got some pills to take the edge off so I think I'll live."

  
Midnite nodded and walked around the table, taking the seat across from John and pouring himself a glass of water.

  
John sat down, hand rubbing over the back of his neck as he spoke: "Thank you for coming through for me."

  
"The world would be a much bleaker place without you in it, old friend."

  
All the questions John wanted to ask about the ritual danced at the tip of his tongue. Chas had been vague about the details and John's mind had been busy developing disturbing theories about what must have happened. He held back though. He needed to trust Chas to tell him when he was ready.

  
"How goes the search?" Midnite asked.

  
John sighed. "If this is everything you have on demon summoning, then it isn’t here."

  
Midnite's brows drew together. He gathered up John’s photos and studied them for several minutes.

  
“This seal appears to have taken elements from several different sources and combined them. It’s complex magic. I didn’t know Dr. Litchfield well but I have a hard time understanding what motivation he had for creating this.”

  
“It doesn’t make sense to me either. There is planning in this, intent. I never suspected this kind of darkness in him.” John slammed the grimoire in front of him closed, his frustration bleeding through.

  
Midnite gave John a measuring look, “You may have to start looking at other options.”

  
“I’m all ears if you have any suggestions.”

  
“You could meet with the Archbishop.”

  
“No.” Hatred colored John’s voice.

  
“He has become the Catholic church’s most prominent exorcist. His knowledge could prove-”

  
“Hell no.” John pushed away from the table. “Gabriel killed Chas, I’ll be damned if I ever ask that bastard for help.”

  
Midnite held up his hands in a peace offering. “Well, do you have any other leads?”

  
John scowled. Midnite had a point; sitting here banging his head against this same wall would get him nowhere. Asmodeus was strongest in November. The demon would act soon, while his power was in full bloom. Which left John with little time to prepare a counterattack. There were only a handful of options left to him. He could give up on using Elliot’s seal and make a new plan. Improvisation had it’s drawbacks of which he was well aware. A sick flash of Chas’s bloody face made his decision for him. There were plenty of other grimoires to choose from, but he hesitated. Though it now caused him no end of grief, Elliot had been smart. Using ancient books was dodgy, a mistranslated word, a discrepancy in the drawing and things would end very badly. He’d keep it in his back pocket but finding Elliot’s design was still his best option. Ezra’s words rang in his head. If Elliot had hidden it then the police could have missed it. At the very least John might find a clue in his apartment to point him in the right direction. He gathered up his pictures.

  
“What is it?” Midnite asked a suspicious look on his face.

  
John ignored the question, organizing the stack of books sprawled over the table.

  
“I know that look John. How stupid is this idea?”

  
“Pretty stupid.” John patted down his pockets, feeling for his crystal pendulum. He found it in his coat’s inner breast pocket. Good, he could head straight to Elliot’s apartment.

  
“Where are you going?” Midnite demanded. He leapt out of his chair and grabbed John’s arm.

  
“I’m going to Elliot’s apartment.”

  
“Why?”

  
“The cops found no references to demonology in their search but he had to have stored his notes somewhere. The police don’t know what to look for but I do, so I’m going back.”

  
Midnite looked like he wanted to protest but all he said was, “John if you get arrested call me. I’ll get you a lawyer and bail you out.”

  
John nodded. Midnite let go of him.

  
“Leave the books, I’ll clean them up.”

  
“Thank you.”

  
John turned and left, making his way back into the din of the club, aware of the deep frown on Midnite’s face as he watched him go.


	20. Our Secret Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John searches Elliot's apartment and makes a disturbing discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologize for taking so long to update but I basically had to re-work this entire chapter because I really wanted to get it right. There is a trigger warning for pedophilia in this chapter, no explicit descriptions of molestation but the subject matter gets a bit heavy so be forewarned. Once again thank you all so much for reading.

Chapter 20: Our Secret Sins

 

 

 

The second John tasted the bite of Asmodeus’s corruption his heart began to stutter in panic. The moon hung low and yellow in the sky, a mere sliver of darkness holding out against her shining beauty. He glanced down at his arms, sure the moonlight would illuminate black, oily tendrils flicking over his skin.

He climbed the grassy incline, Elliot's apartment building jutting up in front of him. The sense that some cataclysmic event had happened here still swirled in the air surrounding the building. Even the birds were silent. He ducked his head and trudged on.

A surly looking doorman manned the front entrance so John swung around to the left side of the building. He made his way to the small stone courtyard where the tenants went to smoke. He tried the door which lead back into the building, but it required a key to open it. John swore and walked back to perch on one of the benches and wait. A handful of minutes later a nicotine craving brought out a middle-aged Hispanic woman with a friendly smile.

"I'm sorry to bother you but I came out for a smoke and I forgot my key," John said, a sheepish grin playing over his face.

She laughed. "No problem honey, happens to me all the time." She turned back and unlocked the door for him. "You new?"

"Yeah, just moved in a couple of weeks ago."

She nodded and pulled her pack of cigarettes out of her coat pocket, eager to get back to her business. John slipped inside and gave a quick wave of thanks. The door closed between them. By the time she’d finished her cigarette she would have forgotten all about him. His shoes clicked on the slick tile floor in the hallway. His luck held and the hall remained empty as he made his way to the stairs.

On Elliot’s floor the pallor of death remained, punctuated by the garish yellow crime scene tape strung across his apartment door. John glanced around to make sure he was alone before grabbing the knife out of his pocket. He slit the tape silently and then went to work on the lock. With a fair amount of brute force he got the door open. Light from the hallway spilled in around him, giving the furniture distinct shapes in the darkness. He inched inside and closed the door. Strange sounds greeted him in the blackness, the air heaving in slow labored gusts. He touched the wall, his fingers probing until he flicked on the light switch. The tightness in John’s chest loosened as the light showed only the familiar entryway and not a monstrous mouth poised to swallow him. Asmodeus’s sticky, erotic energy was thick enough to choke though and John wanted nothing more than to turn around and flee.

“Calm down. You’re fine” John admonished himself. He shook out his tense arms and then reached into his pocket, drawing out the pendulum by its chain. The teardop quartz looked like a chunk of solidified mist. He stretched his arm out, dangling the pendant six inches in front of his face. John took several deep breaths to calm his mind, then he began to picture the seal as it would appear on paper, concentrating on the image till it filled him. It loomed behind his eyes. With the seal fixed in his mind John swung the pendant and waited for a sign.

When it came it was like a hook sinking into his flesh, right below his breastbone. John staggered and his eyes flew open. The quartz swung deliberately towards Elliot’s bedroom. Down the hall the door had been left ajar. John remembered Elliot’s body strung across the bed and he swallowed hard. He took a step down the hall and the quartz pulled him along. When he reached the door he nudged it open with the toe of his shoe but the light from the hall did not pierce the black veil darkening the room. Constantine shuddered and stepped inside.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelped as he stumbled on a drawer and fell to the floor. The police had left the place a mess. John stood and shuffled backwards to the wall. The room reeked of old death and John held back a gag through sheer force of will. He got the light on and his eyes were immediately drawn to the bed. Without Elliot’s body laying there the blood stains were stark against the light floral-patterned fabric of the mattress. Lust still surged throughout the room, while the seal stared down at him like a menacing eye. The hand clutching the pendulum was slick with sweat and while John desperately wanted to leave he had not come this far to go home empty handed. He closed his eyes and once again tried to clear his mind. The smell curling in his nostrils soured his focus but he kept up. When he had the image of the page in his head he swung the pendulum once again.

The hook caught him again and John stared in horror. The pendulum swung in a clear line between his body and Elliot’s bed.

“Come on, anywhere but there,” John groaned.

In answer the pull grew stronger, squashing his hope.

“Okay, don’t think about it,” he told himself.

He climbed into the mess, picking his way over to the bed. He wiped his hands on his pants before gingerly reaching down to probe the mattress, looking for a rip or a tear. He ran his fingers over the fabric, the blood stains crunched like dried leaves. He did a thorough search but found no anomalies. The pendulum had been clear so there had to be something here. John sighed and stuck his hands between the mattress and the box spring, heaving the mattress over onto its side. He climbed up onto the box spring and renewed his search on the underside of the mattress. The cut was right along the seam, blending so well John didn’t notice it until his finger slipped inside.

“Got you,” he crowed.

He thrust his hand in and his fingers found the soft leather spine of a small book. He took it out and set it in front of him. It was nondescript, bound in soft brown leather with the word “Journal” embossed on the front in gold letters. He tucked it under his arm and scrambled back out the door, not wanting to spend another minute in Elliot's room. He walked out to the living room and seated himself on the enormous black leather sectional. He picked up the front cover and guilt twisted in his stomach. Elliot was dead but it still felt like a violation to read his journal without his permission.

“I’m sorry, okay? I wish there was another way,” he said out loud, wondering if Elliot’s spirit would forgive him. He opened the journal and began to read. The first entry was from February.

 

_February 5th_

_I should have turned the woman away the moment she came to my door. She had gotten my name from one of the nuns at Saint Catherine’s. She claimed to be desperate and I convinced myself she needed my help, but the truth is I was lost the moment I saw the picture. Her daughter’s name is Charlotte Tory and she is seven years old. Ms. Tory claims the girl is being pursued by a demon and her account of the events supports her claim. I took the case. God why do I torment myself like this? I wish there were a sign, unimpeachable proof of my sin so that others would scorn me as they should for I am too much of a coward to call my sickness by its name. Yet even now I want to meet her, to at least be in the same room with her. My flesh is weak. I’ll meet them at their home this Sunday. God give me strength._

 

Unease settled over John like a heavy blanket. He turned the page, his eyebrows drawn down into a sharp frown.

 

_February 9th_

_The girl is...unusual. Part of me wonders if a demon has already taken possession of her. From the moment she first looked at me I felt damned, as though she could see the sick desires hidden within me. Either way I do believe a demonic influence is at play. She claims to have been having nightmares for months, that a tall, shadowed figure with glowing eyes haunts her sleep. Ms. Tory says Charlotte has become sullen and on edge. There have been strange happenings in the house, loud noises, strange smells, items going missing. A week ago Charlotte began to sleepwalk. Her mother claims that when she tried to wake Charlotte, the girl hissed at her like a cat. When I walked through the house there was an unsettling aura, it clings to the skin in a slick film. I agreed to do a cleansing next week but I fear that more drastic measures will be necessary to free this little girl from the darkness in her. When our meeting was over Charlotte thanked me, placing her delicate hand on mine. I swear her touch burned me. I cannot get it out of my head that she did it because she knew how it would affect me. Christ, I truly am a monster if I am blaming a little girl for my own perversions._

 

John's tongue turned thick and dry. The awful secret his friend had been hiding was all but been spelled out on the page in front of him. The words were in Elliot's own handwriting and yet he wished for it to be false. Elliot had been intensely private and John had never pried into his life but the idea of the man he knew being a pedophile made him want to throw the journal across the room. He set the book down for a moment to collect himself. His gut churned over what the pages of this journal might reveal? When he picked it back up his hands were shaking.

 

_February 14th_

_The cleansing is done, though I fear the memory of today will haunt me for the rest of my life. We started in Charlotte’s room since that is where the majority of the disturbances have happened. I had just prepared my materials when the phone rang and Charlotte’s mother went to answer it. We were alone together in her room. Charlotte began to describe the visits from the “Shadow Man.”. She said he comes to her late at night, that when he is near her she cannot move or cry out. She claims he speaks to her in a language she can’t understand and puts fever dreams into her head. She began to tremble while she spoke and I, like the fool I am, laid my hand on her shoulder to comfort her. She turned into me then and embraced me. My mind screamed at me to move away while my body reveled in her sweet warmth. I held her to me, on my immortal soul I did no more, but with the memory I have since sinned in mind and body more times than I can count. When Ms. Tory returned the cleansing proceeded without incident. I told them we must wait and see if the manifestations decrease but already I know the demon’s claws are in too deep. Charlotte will need an exorcism. I hunger to see her again, to hold her again… to do more. I have begged God countless times to take pity on me and purge this unnatural lust from me but as always my Savior is silent and unforgiving. I wonder if God has room in his heart for wretched creatures like me or if I was born damned? I must not allow myself to see her again. I will have to recommend another exorcist for them. Perhaps Constantine would do a favor for an old friend._

 

John cursed himself, he remembered Elliot leaving a message on his machine. He'd never returned the call. Elliot had needed him and he’d been too wrapped up in self pity to see anyone's pain but his own. A knot burrowed into the muscles between his shoulders and he hunched against the tension. The next journal entry was almost two weeks later.

 

_February 27_ _th_

_I will perform the exorcism tomorrow night. For a while it seemed the cleansing had worked but now Ms. Tory tells me things are worse than ever. Charlotte's behavior has become so erratic her mother has been forced to keep her home from school. I saw her this afternoon. The encounter has shaken me far more than I expected. The things she said to me should never come out of the mouth of a little girl. I'm no longer confident in my ability to remain strong during this exorcism. I'm emotionally weakened by my feelings for Charlotte, but there is no choice now. I will not abandon her to this demon._

 

Elliot wrote again several days later.

 

_March 2_ _nd_

_The exorcism was brutal but successful. It has taken me two days to recover enough to write about what happened that night. Never before has fighting a demon strained my faith to the breaking point, but there was a moment last night where I wanted to surrender everything to the monster controlling Charlotte. The demon inside her named himself Asmodeus. The way he used Charlotte to torment me I have no doubt I came face to face with the Master of lust. I told Ms. Tory the demon would use lies to try and turn_ _us against each other but the way she looked at me when I left told me she would never trust me again. I cannot blame her, everything Asmodeus said about me was true. There was even a part of me which delighted in Charlotte’s indecency. Still in the end I held firm and was not swayed by having my darkest fantasies trotted out before me. Charlotte is now free from Asmodeus’s influence and with God’s grace I will never see her again._

 

A small sigh of relief escaped John. Then he glanced st the next entry. Elliot’s usual precise handwriting had devolved into a frantic scribble.

 

_March 16_ _th_

_I am being driven mad. Each day my strength is worn away to dust. I have heard nothing from Charlotte or Ms. Tory since the exorcism. I should be overjoyed but instead I find myself obsessively thinking about her. I don't eat or sleep, all I do is pace around my apartment like a chained dog. I am desperate to see her again. If I look on her face just once more it will be enough to sustain me for a lifetime. Yesterday on the way home from the library I found myself walking in Charlotte's neighborhood, scanning the children’s faces, hoping to see her on her way home from school. It was as though some dark force had lead me there against my will. Alas she was not there. I need to see her and yet I dread it. I no longer trust myself to walk away. I can see no end to this agony. I have had infatuations before but nothing this strong. Always I have known there was no way I could act on my desires but more and more the voice inside my head urges me to sin. I have prayed for hours and hours but God is no more to me now than a silent and judgmental observer. Before it seemed his hand steadied me, his love gave me the strength to deny my sexual proclivities but now the touch has been removed. I have been abandoned to my own feeble self control. What will I do without Him to guide me?_

 

Bile inched up John’s throat. It sickened him to read. He wiped his hands on his pants as though touching the pages had somehow dirtied him. What would he do if he found out Elliot had molested this little girl? Already the memory of his friend had been forever warped into something tainted and sad. He now knew where Elliot had encountered Asmodeus but not why he had decided to summon him. John had to read on.

 

_March 19_ _th_

_I saw her. For two days I haunted her neighborhood, hoping for a glimpse of her and today my wish was granted. She looked even more angelic than I remembered. She was on her way to dance lessons, walking with several other girls. One of the their mothers shepherded the flock so I could not speak with her but just seeing her was a relief. I followed her until she disappeared into the studio, then I rushed home, my body practically burning with lust. Never before has my release been so intense. But the moment my body was purged the truth crashed down upon me. What I’ve done is monstrous. I am a monster._

 

_April 3rd_

_I am no longer in control of my actions_ _. In God’s absence a darker influence has taken over my soul. I hear his whispers clearly now and I have no strength to shut him out. Asmodeus left Charlotte because he’d found a more suitable conduit in me. Every day I swear to myself I will leave her alone but I do not remember the last time I managed to stay away. Some days I see her and some days I don’t, but always the demon drives me to look. She has also begun to visit my dreams, tormenting me as surely as any succubus. I know it is only a matter of time before I do something I cannot come back from. He wants something from me. He has never stated it but I think it is the reason he has not completely broken my will. I tried to expel him from my body but the pain he caused me was unendurable and I fear I will not survive another attempt. Perhaps death would be the better but my instinct for self preservation is too strong. For now I must endure._

 

Rage exploded in John’s chest. Asmodeus had engineered everything. Elliot’s pedophilia had made him the perfect target. He could not reach out for help for fear of exposing his deepest secret.

“I wish you would have said something,” John whispered into the silent air. “I would have helped you. I would have…”

His words faded away. Elliot’s presence filled his home, as though reading his journal had somehow summoned him here. For the first time John had come face to face with Elliot’s most personal self and it made him wonder how he would have reacted of Elliot were still alive. Would he have been able to continue their friendship if he’d known? He shook his head. No. He would have done his best to help Elliot free himself from Asmodeus but their friendship would have been the casualty. He turned back to the journal.

 

_April 25_ _th_

_He says he will cure me. Is such a thing even possible? Of course I cannot consider his offer because the price for his help is betrayal. He wants me to summon him up from the pit. He claims he will only have the power to cure me if he is on our physical plane. So all I have to do to live a life free from my sickness is damn everyone else. He won’t speak of his plans after he cures me. He hates being questioned. Still I cannot deny the selfish desire to see if his promise is true. Imagine a life unfettered by my curse? To no longer feel cut off from love, cut off from true intimacy. I can dream about it but my actions must stay firmly rooted in reality. I will not bring Asmodeus out of Hell._

 

John turned to the next page and saw that Elliot had begun to use the journal as a place to collect his research into Asmodeus. There was page after page of notes, drawings, clippings, he’d written down everything. In early June the first version of the seal was sketched on one page. On the opposite page was Elliot’s first entry in months.

 

_June 7_ _th_

_The more I think about it the more I begin to consider that this hare-brained scheme of mine might actually work. The old grimoires are unreliable but as a basis for an original design they have potential. Many demonologists claim to have found the secret to controlling a demon with a seal. Some even claim to have summoned Asmodeus himself though I have no way of verifying this without tipping my hand to him. He might already know, but if he does he has let nothing slip. He continues to use my body against me, twisting me up until I am helpless against my desires. I will not write of the things I have done in the throes of his fire but I have not yet hurt a child. Though the longer I resist the closer he pushes me to the precipice. Rationally I know my plan is folly but I am a rational man less and less these days._

 

Elliot worked on the design for several months and finally in late August he finished his seal. John admired the beauty of it. He’d drawn a copy of the seal along with instructions for how to prepare and use it. It was more than he’d let himself hope for. Now he could use the seal to fix Elliot’s mistake. The last pages of the journal were empty save for one final entry in mid October.

 

_October 17_ _th_

_I know in my heart I will not be forgiven for what I plan to do. On the night of November first I plan to summon Asmodeus and beg him to cure me. I do not think it likely that I will survive this encounter but I must try. My life becomes smaller each day as Asmodeus reduces me to a burning pinpoint of lust. I wonder if I am already mad? I have fallen so far from what I once was. I doubt God would recognize the desperate creature I have become. Lord I know I am no longer worthy of your love but I must ask you to keep watch over me, for if I fail all of humanity may very well pay for my mistake._

 

John closed the journal. Once again pity for Elliot tugged at him with insistent fingers. His friend had made a terrible mistake but he’d been driven to it by Asmodeus. A muscle in his jaw twitched. He stood then, tucking the journal under his arm and said his last goodbye to Elliot. He made his way though the apartment turning out the lights and setting everything to rights. Now with the journal in his possession he had no time to waste. He had to find Asmodeus and send him back to Hell, before the demon could plunge them into a war. He clicked off the last light and opened the door to find himself face to face with the barrel of a gun.

“Turn around and put your hands above your head.”

John didn’t need to see his face, the gravely voice was enough to identify the man. Detective Weiss. Damn, someone must have seen him and called the cops. He turned and reached up, placing his hands against the back of his head. The cold snap of a handcuff tightened around his left wrist.

“John Constantine, you are under arrest for trespassing at a crime scene.”

John listened to his Miranda rights while his arms were jerked roughly behind his back. Once the cuffs were on Weiss spun him around. The sick look of glee on the other man’s face made John want to spit on him.

“Do you understand these rights?”

“I do.”

Weiss leaned in close, his stubble scratching John’s cheek as he spoke into his ear.

“I knew you couldn't be trusted.”

John frowned. Weiss pulled back and clamped his arm around his bicep, hauling him down the hall toward the elevator. There was another detective John didn’t recognize by the elevator, he spoke with a well dressed man but John could only see the back of him. The officer scribbled down some notes in a small notepad. There was something familiar about the man’s confident posture. John was certain he’d seen this person before. Then they moved into earshot.

“Thank you again for calling us. We’ll want you to come down to the station to file a witness report tomorrow if you can.

“Yes of course, anything I can do to help. Thank you for getting here so quickly. It horrified me when I saw him picking the lock on Dr. Litchfield’s apartment. I’ve heard murderers often return to the scene of the crime.” The man turned and met John's eyes then, a smug little smile on his face. John’s body reacted without thought. He lunged at him, a snarl curling back his lips.

“You son of a bitch!”

Weiss grabbed John, knocking his feet out and slamming him into the ground. His head smacked hard against the cold tile and the last thing he saw before everything went black was Balthazar standing over him.

 


	21. Blood and Treachery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is questioned by the police, meanwhile Midnite and Chas look for an advantage over Asmodeus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers. I seem to be averaging about one chapter a month as the third act of this story needs more polishing than the previous two. Chapter 21 is now ready though and there are no specific warnings for this chapter. Thanks again for sticking with me.

Chapter 21: Blood and Treachery

 

 

 

The door to the interview room opened but John kept his head down on the table, his eyes closed. He'd been hauled out of his cell over an hour ago and brought here to languish, waiting for the cops to decide he'd softened up enough to confess. His head still hurt from its violent encounter with the tile floor and his shoulders burned from being stretched behind him for so long. Footsteps approached the table and his body tingled with awareness as his interrogator loomed. The acidic bite of cheap cologne was a dead giveaway and John pretended not to notice Weiss, taking a spiteful pleasure in the rumble of the detective grinding his teeth. Weiss slammed his hand hard against the metal table, inches in front of John's face. The noise rang around the dingy little room and John opened one eye, peering up.

"I still haven't been given my phone call."

Fury purpled Weiss's face and John glanced at the one way mirror covering the left wall of the room, wondering if Angela was back there keeping watch. He hadn't seen her since his arrest and he wondered if she'd been warned to stay away from him because of their personal relationship. Weiss managed to hang on to his control. He circled the table and took the empty chair across from John. John sat up, wincing as his muscles protested the movement. Weiss set a large manilla folder of the table, steepling his hands on top of it. John waited for Weiss to show him what was inside but he kept it closed. Weiss silently collected his thoughts for a minute. There were deep bruise-like circles under his eyes.

"You were arrested after breaking into the apartment of Dr. Elliot Litchfield. Want to tell me what you were doing there?"

"I'm not going to answer any questions until you give me my phone call. I was told I have the right to have an attorney present," John said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine. You don't have to talk, just listen." Weiss opened the envelope and pulled out several pictures. "Angela hit a wall last night and the Captain sent her home to get some sleep. She was supposed to be back at work this morning at seven AM but she didn't show up for her shift."

John felt like someone had poured ice water into his veins. His stomach clenched and he tried hard to keep his face impassive. His eyes slid up, meeting Weiss's.

"I thought she might have overslept so I went to pick her up." He laid the photographs face up on the table, sliding them over one by one, revealing the story they told to John. Her front door had been decimated, crushed and ripped open. She had obviously struggled with her attacker, her desk was overturned and there was a dent in one of the walls where someone had been shoved against it hard enough to crack the drywall. Blood dripped down the wall to a sizable puddle on the wood floor. Nearby, scrawled in blood was one word. Constantine. John realized his hands were trembling and he set the picture down. Weiss watched him with hawkish intensity, dark eyes glittering underneath his brows.

"I had them test it, it's her blood it's written in."

John eyes flicked again to the mirror and then the closed circuit camera perched in the corner of the room. It would be a huge risk to try and open Weiss's eyes here. The detective had never struck him as open minded but Angela's life was on the line. Weiss frowned.

"Is there something you want to say Mr. Constantine?"

John said nothing but he put the plea into his eyes. Weiss nodded and stood. He went out the door and John caught the sound of raised voices coming from behind the mirror. A lump worked up John’s throat. He was certain Asmodeus had taken her. The last picture Weiss had given him struck him like a fist in the gut. The shaky crimson letters branded themselves on his soul. Had Asmodeus written it? A taunt to show John he couldn't protect anyone he cared about. Or had it been Angela in a desperate plea to the one man she knew could help her?

Weiss burst back in and John jumped. He slammed the door behind him and walked straight to the camera, ripping the cord out of the wall with savage force. Then he came for John. He fisted his hands into John’s coat collar and yanked him to his feet.

“It’s just you and me now.” Saliva flew from his mouth hitting John’s cheek.

“Are you going to listen to what I have to say? Because it isn’t going to be easy to hear.”

“If you fucking-”

John cut him off. “I would never hurt Angela!” he shouted. “I get that you think I’m a freak but you can't possibly think I'm stupid enough to leave my own name written in blood at the location of a crime I committed. Now if you want to save her, you have to listen to me.”

Weiss let him go. He shoved both hands into his hair and tugged hard, letting out an anguished groan. John watched him warily, prepared to duck if Weiss lost it.

“Alright I’ll listen, but you better talk fast.”

“I know who took her. This case you’ve been working, the killer isn’t what you think he is.”

Weiss scoffed, pacing back and forth in front of John. Constantine took a deep breath. This was it, either Weiss could accept the truth or he would balk and John would probably end up with a fist in his mouth.

“He’s a demon.”

Weiss stopped walking and stared at John.

“What do you mean? Like he’s a bad person? I figured that out on my own.”

“No, I mean a literal demon. From Hell.”

Weiss let out a soft chuckle but he cut it short. His face hardened when he realized John wasn’t being glib.

“Bullshit.”

“I know it sounds crazy.”

“No, it sounds impossible. Angela buys into your paranormal crap because she’s desperate to believe in God, but I’m a realist. I believe in what I can see in front of me, and what I see in front of me right now is a liar. Which makes me start to wonder why someone would concoct a ridiculous story about demons? Maybe the same reason someone would break into a crime scene. Because they’ve got something to hide.” Weiss spoke low, stepping closer, invading John’s space.

“I also believe in what I can see and the things I’ve seen and done would send you screaming to the looney bin. Angela believes because she’s seen it too. You may not always agree with her, but you respect her, you know she’s a good cop. And if you could get past your prejudice for one minute you'd see I’m the best chance you’ve got at saving her.”

Weiss stared hard into John's face, his brows scrunched together. He hadn’t turned around and walked out, which was a step in the right direction. John waited. Weiss cared about Angela, they had been partners for years. All that would mean nothing, though, if he couldn't take a leap of faith.

Weiss shook his head. “This is pointless. I told Angie you were bad news, and if she kept on with you eventually you’d turn on her. I think you used her. She kept you informed so you could keep covering your ass. What happened, Constantine? She get too close? Angie’s smart and you couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes forever, so you had to take her out.” He shoved John back. “Whatever you did to her is going to seem tame compared to what I’m going to do to you when I get proof.” He turned away going to the table and gathering up his photos.

“She’s going to die. This demon has no concept of mercy and you’re abandoning her to him. Please… I can save her,” John pleaded frantically. There had to be some way to reach Weiss. Weiss turned around and held up his hand.

“We’re done here. I’m going to have them take you back to the holding cells. The only favor I’m going to do for you is to forget everything you’ve said. As far as I’m concerned this whole conversation never happened. We’ll start the interview again after we’ve both had some time to cool off and you’d better have some answers for me because I’ll tell you right now, you’re my prime suspect in Angela’s disappearance as well as the murders.”

Weiss stepped outside and signaled to someone down the hall. A uniformed officer trotted up, unclipping her handcuffs.

“Take Mr. Constantine back to the holding cells.”

John’s body trembled with restrained rage. Weiss was an idiot and he hoped some day he had the pleasure of knocking his front teeth in. The officer approached him and he was certain if they took him back to the cells he’d never get out in time to save Angela. His mind latched on to his only chance to delay them.

“I want my phone call,” he demanded. The officer stopped and turned to Weiss looking for approval. Weiss rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Give him his damn phone call,” he said, and disappeared down the hall. The officer sighed and put away her handcuffs.

“Come with me Mr. Constantine, I’ll take you to a room where you can have some privacy.”

 

#

 

The tangy smell of metal and gasoline wafted around Chas’s face when he stepped out of his cab. The gas station was busy with commuters filling up during the morning rush to work. He'd taken the last few days off but the thought of spending another day moping around the church under the watchful eyes of Father Levin had been enough to get him dressed and out the door today. The sun illuminated every bit of dust and grime on his dingy cab and he decided to pay the extra ten bucks and run it through the car wash before he started his shift. He’d just finished filling up when his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He grabbed it, the screen flashed a number he didn’t recognize. Chas almost ignored it but some niggling suspicion made him answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Chas? It’s-” There was a burst of static on the line and Chas winced.

“I’m sorry who is this?” He asked, the voice was distorted but familiar. There was a click and the static cleared up.

“It’s Midnite.”

A tendril of anxiety snaked around Chas’s gut. “Hey, what can I do for you?”

“A situation has come up. I need you to meet me at my club.”

A situation? Chas's mind started churning up horrific scenarios at a break neck pace and he put a hand out to steady himself against his cab.

“What's going on?” he asked

“It's best if we speak in person. I'll explain everything when you get here.”

Chas picked up on the strain in Midnite's voice and his body leaped into action. He slid into the cab and started the engine.

“Okay. I'll be right over.”

“Good.”

Midnite disconnected the call and Chas peeled out of the gas station. He cut off another car as he merged into traffic and sped down the highway. The driver honked at him but he almost didn't hear it. This had to be about John. His certainty went down to the bone and his foot pressed down harder on the gas pedal. He weaved in and out of cars and took the exit way too fast, the steering wheel fighting his control. Don't panic, he scolded himself, you don't know anything for certain. Still, each second that passed stung him until he screeched the cab to a halt in front of Midnite's. Chas went to unclip his seat belt when the passenger door was yanked open and Midnite climbed inside. He had his red duffel bag again and he settled it on his lap.

“Get on the 101 and head south,” he said.

Chas gaped at Midnite for a moment but when nothing else was forthcoming he put the cab in gear and did as he'd been told.

“You want to tell me what's going on? Because I've been making myself sick the whole way over here.”

“Asmodeus has taken Angela.”

Chas let out a long breath. “Dear God.”

Angela's psychic power would make her a frightening tool in the hands of Asmodeus. If he broke her defenses he could use her to project his filth into the minds of millions. Already droves of people were succumbing but with Angela he could bring all of humanity to its knees. Chas’s legs began to tremble. The image of John’s face contorted with Asmodeus’s control filled his head and he flinched away from it.

“Does John know? Is he okay?”

Midnite shifted in his seat. “He's the one who told me. I spoke with him right before I called you.”

Chas noted Midnite had not answered the second part of his question. He grit his teeth against the questions buzzing behind his lips. Midnite would tell him when he was ready and not a moment sooner. They got onto the Hollywood freeway and Chas wondered if they were going to meet John. No force on Earth would keep Constantine away from the battle to save Angela. He repositioned his sweat slicked palms on the wheel and noticed Midnite staring at him. Their eyes met and Chas had the sense Midnite was sizing him up.

“I want you to be honest with me: do you think you can handle facing Asmodeus again?”

Chas went still. His first impulse was to say no, but he had never been one to let fear rule him. He had not endured so much to let himself be cowed before he faced his enemy. Uriel's warning rang in his head but he pushed it aside. He would never be able to see all the consequences of his decisions so he had to go with what his heart told him was right.

“Yes. I can do this.”

Midnite nodded. The drive was silent, only broken when Midnite gave Chas directions on where to turn. When they turned onto Temple street all the hair on Chas's body stood up. He kept waiting for Midnite to tell him to turn but instead they drove straight. When the huge tan edifice of the Cathedral of our Lady of the Angels came into view all the air left Chas's body. Midnite directed him into the parking lot and Chas turned off the engine.

“What are we doing here?” His voice came out as a hollow croak.

“John found Dr. Litchfield's seal and the information about how he'd been planning to use it to control Asmodeus. He believes this will be enough to give us an advantage over the demon. I do not.”

“Okay. I'm still not understanding why you brought me here.”

“You know the Archbishop has become a prominent exorcist over the past couple of years?” Midnite unzipped his bag and reached inside. He drew out a book bound in thick red leather.

“Yeah, I've heard,” Chas snapped. Sitting here had his blood pressure soaring through the roof. He had worked very hard since his death to avoid dealing with or even hearing about Gabriel, and now he sat right outside his doorstep.

Midnite opened the book and then held it out to him. Chas looked down at the page. On one side was extremely faded text and on the other was a drawing of a dagger. Two metal crossguards framed a wooden handle with a golden crucifix embedded in the center. The blade was long, tapering to a fine point, with the Latin phrase _transit umbra, lux permanet_ engraved in the metal. Shadow passes, light remains. The weapon was a thing of beauty.

“Nicholas Remy, the witch hunter, had that blade forged by the Catholic church in 1582. It was blessed by the Pope and has the power to purge evil from our world.” Midnite smiled, flashing bright white teeth. “And my sources inside the church tell me the Archbishop now has it in his possession.”

Chas swore under his breath. It was obvious what Midnite had brought him here to do.

“What makes you think he will give it to me?”

“If you can convince him you speak for God he will have no other choice. Gabriel is desperate to prove himself worthy of forgiveness.”

“But I'd be lying. I don't have the power to offer him what he wants.”

“Not directly, but our cause is righteous. It is entirely possible God will approve of Gabriel assisting us.”

Chas snorted. Uriel had made clear the kind of assistance God approved of. Still he'd said he would fight at John's side. All he could hope for now was God's understanding and quite possibly his forgiveness. He handed the book back to Midnite and unclasped his seat belt.

“You going to wait out here?”

Midnite nodded. “Gabriel has never approved of my lifestyle. My presence will only hinder our efforts.”

Chas exited the cab and took a deep breath. It would take a lifetime for him to sort through the mire of feeling he had about seeing Gabriel again. Instead he straightened, drawing his power around him like armor, and went to face the man who had ended his life.


	22. When a Lion Roars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas faces Gabriel and helps John make a prison break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again with Chapter 22. There are no specific content warnings for this chapter. Thanks again to everyone who has left kudos or reviews and I hope you enjoy.

 

Chapter 22: When a Lion Roars

 

 

 

Chas had waited for over an hour before Gabriel came back to his office. When he'd arrived, the Archbishop had been in a meeting with several of the local priests. Chas had used the opportunity to sneak up to his office, wanting to make an impression. Chas stood in front of a massive mahogany desk, his wings let out to their full length. Gabriel strode into the office, stuttering to a halt when his eyes lit upon the angel. Chas’s heart sped up but he let nothing show. Gabriel looked much the same, his red gold hair falling in soft waves around his androgynous face, wiry body held upright and proud. Shock widened the Archbishop’s eye, white flashing around his green irises. He inclined his head in greeting. When Chas offered nothing in return he straightened and smoothed his hands down the front of his linen alb.

"You're looking well." His voice was light and musical but there was an undercurrent of tension. The angel kept his face set in the impassive mask he'd seen on so many of his brethren.

"Gabriel, I've come to ask for your aid as a servant of God.” Chas infused a small amount of power into his voice. Two small red spots bloomed to life in the Archbishop's cheeks.

"What would you have me do?”

Gabriel's eyes strayed longingly to his desk but Chas barred his way. He had no intention of letting Gabriel regain any sense of power. He continued, doing his best to imitate Uriel's oddly formal speech.

“You have in your possession a holy artifact: a dagger, which I am in need of.”

Gabriel smiled then, “Remigius. But why would you need it?”

Chas had to fight to keep from gaping at Gabriel. "Surely you have sensed the darkness which has overtaken our city? Evil runs unchecked and it must be brought to an end.”

Gabriel nodded, his gaze shrewd. When he took a step toward Chas the hair on the back of his neck stood up. His muscles tightened into steel, keeping him from fleeing.

“Asmodeus was summoned and now he works to create his own vile kingdom on Earth.” Chas took a deep breath and hoped God wasn't listening. “Our Father has sent me to make sure this does not happen.”

"You expect me to believe He sent _you_?"

"Who better to remind you of your duty than the man you killed."

Gabriel flinched. His jaw worked for a moment before he was able to speak again. His voice softer now.

“Angels do not fight. It would bring us into open war.”

Chas ignored the comment, not wanting to get drawn into another debate about his duty. “Asmodeus must be stopped. Give me Remigius so we can send him back to Hell.”

The only warning Gabriel gave was a slight narrowing of his eyes before he pounced.

“Does ‘we’ include John Constantine?”

The name cracked like a whip between them and Chas started to sweat under Gabriel's penetrating stare. It had been too much to hope they could have this conversation without John sticking between them like cactus quills.

"Yes, it does."

Gabriel scoffed. "I fail to see how that man could be the downfall of anything other than a bottle of scotch."

"John has his flaws, but he still fights against evil. He has held his own in the past," Chas said, unable to resist a chance to throw Gabriel's failure in his face.

"Mammon never actually came through. Though I'll admit Constantine's luck has held out remarkably well."

"Gabriel, your opinion of John changes nothing. He will be the instrument. You will not deny me."

The Archbishop stiffened, the rebuff hitting him like a blow. His nostrils flared and he came even closer, stopping less than a foot from Chas.

"The Church is not in the habit of loaning our sacred relics to a man of such low moral character."

Chas's facade began to crumble as his anger rose to match Gabriel's. How dare he challenge John's character? Chas had seen the man in front of him plot an apocalypse in order to make humans worthy of God's love in his eyes. Obviously being human hadn't changed him much.

Chas clenched his hands into fists. He hadn't come here to ask, he'd come to command. Heat radiated out of his body, the power burning away his clothes, revealing the white raiment underneath. His skin began to glow, lighting the ashes from his clothes until they danced like white snowflakes in the air. His light struck Gabriel and the man faltered, stumbling back a few steps before he collapsed to his knees. Chas's voice boomed in the office, shaking the glass in the window panes.

"I did not come here for excuses. You have a sacred duty to help protect the people of this city." He advanced until he stood over the Archbishop. Gabriel stared, unblinking into Chas's face while he spoke. There was fear and respect in his gaze. Chas reached out a hand, setting it against the cross hanging in the center of Gabriel’s chest. The metal heated under his touch and he watched as Gabriel began to squirm. The cross shivered, burning Gabriel through his robe and his face contorted in horror. He cried out, pulling away and prostrating himself before Chas.

When Chas spoke again Gabriel trembled violently. "You know better than most what the fate of your immortal soul shall be if you forsake your duty."

Gabriel looked up, tears welling out of his eyes, but whether it was from fear or love Chas could not say. His clothes and skin were unharmed but the cross had blackened his soul and Gabriel knew it. He nodded, reaching out and clasping Chas's hand before the angel had time to withdraw it. Having Gabriel touch him made him feel rotten inside, like he was taking his life all over again. But he held still. Gabriel rested his forehead against the back of Chas's hand, tears pooling between their skin.

"As you command," he said in a small whisper.

He released Chas and stood, walking over to his desk. He reached under the neckline of his alb, pulling out a chain with a small silver key dangling at the end. With a graceful movement he slid the chain over his head and fitted the key into the lock on the bottom right drawer of his desk. The cabinet gave a soft pop when the lock released, followed by a rustle as Gabriel withdrew the linen wrapped bundle. He set it on the desk and undid the wrapping, withdrawing a plain leather scabbard. The metal crossguards gleamed in the light. He turned and held the weapon out to Chas.

He approached warily. Gabriel had been cooperative so far but Chas would not let his guard down. Tentative fingers lifted the scabbard. The leather was rough, a large cross embossed on both sides. He grasped the handle, the wood was cool against his palm and exposed the blade. It ran the length of his forearm, the engraved words drawing his gaze down to the needle sharp point. Chas tested the edge with his finger before he sheathed the blade and looked up to find Gabriel watching him.

“Thank you. I promise it will be returned to the church.” He turned to go, wanting to get as far from Gabriel as possible. However when his hand reached the door the Archbishop spoke.

“John Constantine can’t be trusted.”

Chas exhaled through his nose. Gabriel just had to have the last word. They both knew he was trying to assuage his wounded ego but for Chas it was the last straw. Now that he had the dagger he no longer had to conduct himself as a messenger of God, and Chas Kramer had a few things he wanted to say.

“What is it about John? Is it because he outsmarted you?” The angel turned around fixing Gabriel with a cold stare. Gabriel floundered, his eyes darting back and forth. A small pink tongue flicked over his lips.

“He has a murky code of personal ethics at best and on more than one occasion he has deceived the people who put their faith in him. Once, a long time ago, he was good enough to stand against a demon King, but not anymore. He will fail.”

Chas laughed. “Look at the pot calling the kettle black. Gabriel, your past actions have have made it so you are the last person I’m going to take advice from. I have faith in John.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to be blinded by love.”

The urge to strike out shot up Chas’s spine, heating his face. His lips flattened into a hard thin line. He never wanted to have his feelings for John thrown in his face again.

“It doesn’t matter that you were given a second chance does it? You’re so convinced you are right. Whatever lessons being human had to teach you, you’ve shut it out. You could have all the chances in the world and your pride would ruin every one of them. You might be able to fool some people, but I can see the truth and you’re the last person who should be a spiritual leader.” Gabriel had turned ashen while he spoke and Chas whirled around stalking to the door. throwing his last words over his shoulder. “Go to Hell, Gabriel.”

Chas fled then, his whole body shaking with the potent cocktail of fear and anger. The ground blurred as he walked faster and faster until the black asphalt of the parking lot greeted him. He steadied himself on a nearby car, taking several deep breaths before calmly continuing to his car.

When he got to the cab he opened the door and tossed the dagger to Midnite whose face split into a wide grin.

“You are more devious than I gave you credit for.”

“Yeah, well, hanging around John for so long it was bound to rub off on me.” He shut the door and turned to Midnite, no longer willing to be put off with partial answers or silence.

“What's going on with John? I know there is something you aren't telling me.”

Midnite sighed, “He's in jail. He was arrested for breaking into Dr. Litchfield's apartment when he went looking for information on Elliot's seal. Now he is under suspicion for the murders as well as Angela's disappearance.”

Chas ground his teeth. Of all the stupid, reckless things to do. He never should have left John to his own devices.

“I suppose you have a plan for getting him out?” He said, dropping his head into his hands.

“I have an idea, but it will require a bit more flexibility with the rules on your part.”

Chas figured since he was already in trouble with God he might as well go all in.

“Alright, let's hear it.”

 

 

#

 

After more than twenty-four hours without sleep, John's eyelids had begun to drift closed with alarming insistence and he dug his nails into his wrist to keep himself awake. There were three other men in the cell with him and from what he'd picked up when they'd been brought in the last thing he wanted to do was close his eyes around these guys. He lay on one of the hard metal benches drilled into the cement walls, staring up at the gray, featureless ceiling. It had been hours since his aborted interrogation by Weiss and he was beginning to wonder if the detective was leaving him in here to languish on purpose.

He'd drifted off again when the shriek of rusted hinges had him leaping to his feet. The officer from before stood at the cell door. She'd told him her name was Williams. Her eyes met his and she motioned him over.

“Constantine, Detective Weiss wants you back in the hot seat."

"Oh, goody," John groused.

He strode over and offered his wrists so she could put the cuffs on him. Her touch was gentle and when she'd finished she patted his arm. She lead him out of the cell. On the other side of the bars they stopped and Williams locked the door behind them. The tumblers clicked into place seconds before one of his cellmates slammed against the bars. They both jumped back as the man growled and snapped his teeth in the space between the metal. Williams forced John against the wall behind them.

“Don’t move,” she told him, giving a push for emphasis before turning her attention back towards the cell.

“Sir, you need to step back from the bars,” she commanded.

It was pointless, the man’s eyes were two wet black pearls peering out from his twisted face. The other men in the cell backed away but they looked excited rather than afraid, both panting as they watched Williams step closer. She pressed the button on the radio at her shoulder.

“This is Williams, I need backup in holding, one of these guys is going nuts.”

A static garbled affirmative reply followed. John tensed when she unholstered her taser and stepped within grabbing distance of the man at the bars. On instinct he jerked at the cuffs, wanting to do something to help. The man in the cell ground his pelvis against the cell door, spitting vile sexual suggestions at Officer Williams. Some of the others began hooting and shouting, the noise reverberating off the stone walls until John thoughts were swallowed by the racket.

The door next to John flew open and several officers rushed inside. Two of them approached Williams and began barking orders at the men in the cell.

“Sir, step away from the bars and lay down on the floor with your hands against your head,” Officer Williams said. Her posture more relaxed now that her backup had arrived. She glanced over her shoulder and jerked her thumb at John. “Somebody get him out of here.”

A tall, lanky male officer grabbed John's arm and dragged him out of the room. Behind him, the electric sizzle of a taser sounded followed by the boneless thump of a body hitting the floor.

They were walking through the main station room when the radio on the officer's shoulder blared to life.

“Code 9! Code 9! I need every available officer to holding. I repeat code 9, riot in progress in holding.”

“Shit,” the man holding John muttered. He paused for a moment before dragging John to a nearby empty desk. He shoved him down into the chair and removed the cuff from one wrist, clamping the metal around one of the desk's drawer handles.

“Stay here,” he said and took off.

John sat there in shock. The cacophony of shouts and screams from holding got louder and louder. John craned his neck trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Without warning an itchy heat pressed against the left side of his body. He flinched back into the chair but next to him was only empty air. Then came the undeniable sensation of a hand grasping his upper arm. John blinked rapidly and tried to pull away, panic blaring in his head.

“Be still. It's me.” Chas’s voice came right next to his ear.

“Chas?”

“Quiet. I'm going to get you out of here.”

The cuff on John's wrist gave a sharp tug and then came loose, falling against the drawer with a clank. John rubbed his wrist then stood only to see a detective come round the corner. He tried to duck under the desk but Chas pulled John against his body.

“They can’t see you anymore,” he whispered. “I've extended my shield to you but I can't keep it up for long so we have to go now.”

John nodded, the smell of Chas's body making his heart stutter. The detective walked past them without so much as a sideways glance.

“Head for the door but be careful, we have to remain in contact.”

John grasped Chas's hand tight and began to creep toward the exit. The riot had taken care of most of the officers so they had plenty of space to maneuver. It struck John as surreal to walk through a building and have everyone look through you. He had just sighted the entrance when Weiss came barreling out of an office to the right. The detective was yelling into his radio.

“What do you mean you lost him?”

All the hair on John's body stood up and behind him and Chas stiffened. Weiss growled and pinched his nose.

“I want the whole building searched. Top to bottom you hear me? And you better pray he turns up.”

Weiss stormed toward them and Chas hauled John back into the little corner provided by the water cooler. They each held their breath as Weiss passed within inches of them. Chas trembled behind him and John knew they didn't have much longer before the shield fell apart around them. The second the way was clear John hauled ass for the exit, practically dragging Chas behind him. They almost crashed head first into a woman coming into the precinct and John pivoted hard to avoid her. They stumbled out onto the sidewalk and John dragged them back against the building to avoid colliding with the pedestrians. Chas's breathing had become labored, almost loud enough to be heard by the people rushing past them.

“Where do you want to go?” John asked in a low voice.

“Find an alley or something, somewhere private.”

John's eyes darted over the street searching for a place they could use. Two doors down he spotted a tight little hole between buildings. Chas swayed alarmingly and John almost lost the grip on his hand. John put both arms around Chas, tucking him in close, pressing their bodies together. His body reacted to having Chas against him and John hated himself for it.

“Easy there. Stay with me.”

They crept slowly along the building staying pressed against the stone facade. John slipped into the narrow alley, pulling Chas into the darkness created by the building’s shadows. The warmth of Chas's shield drained away and Chas appeared in front of him, skin pale from exertion. John kept Chas against him, steadying him.

"Ta-da," Chas said, his voice coming out a bit raspy.

John chuckled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute.” Chas said. He leaned against John, sucking in big breaths.

John drank in the man before him. They'd been apart only a handful of days but John had missed him more than he cared to admit. Having Chas here, in his arms was a balm to his most secret wound. John frowned. Chas wasn’t wearing clothes, instead he wore the tight, white raiment of the angel’s. John's brain pushed aside the warm fuzzy feelings and kicked into high gear.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Midnite called me,” Chas answered. “He’s here actually, he’s waiting in the car.”

It wasn't the whole story, not by a long shot, but with things between Chas and him still so tentative John let it stand. The color had come back into Chas's skin and now their proximity became awkward. Chas released his grip on John's shirt and stepped away, one arm coming across his chest. John looked down but Chas wouldn't meet his eyes and he floundered, hoping for the right words to bridge the gap.

“You really came through for me.”

Chas looked up then, his eyes luminous in the shadowed twilight of the building. “Anytime, John.”

Constantine swallowed hard and hit the brakes on the truckload of lust which rocketed through him. He'd sworn to himself he wouldn't push Chas.

He cleared his throat. “So where did you park?”

“A lot about three blocks down. But first I have something else for you.” He reached around to his back and grabbed something he'd tucked under his clothing. He offered it to John.

“Where did you find it?” John asked, taking Elliot's journal in his hands.

“Midnite said it was important so I looked for it before I came for you. It was on the desk in Weiss's office.”

John nodded and held the soft leather tight.

“Let's go,” Chas said. “I'm sure Midnite is wondering where we are by now.”

They crept out of the alley, both alert for cops since John's disappearance had been discovered. John followed Chas down the sun warmed sidewalk, keeping his head down. They made the trip in silence, which suited John since his heart and body were at war over how to proceed with Chas. Not to mention his brain churning over Angela and Asmodeus. He was so caught up he didn't realize they'd made it to the car until Midnite's voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“I told you I'd get you out,” Midnite said after he'd opened the car door.

“I think Chas was the one doing the heavy lifting here,” John replied.

“And who do you think started the riot to distract the cops so you could scurry out of there?”

There was a devious gleam in Midnite's eyes and John chuckled. The conversation they needed to have was not for public ears so they piled into Chas's cab and leaned together.

“Well, let's see it,” Midnite demanded, holding a hand out to John. Constantine handed the journal over, wincing as Midnite skimmed the passages. He gave John a long measuring look and then went back to the journal flipping through pages until he found the seal. He propped the book face up between them.

“It is beautiful work,” Chas said.

“Yes, powerful magic went into making this design but I'm still glad we have our secret ace,” Midnite replied.

John looked up, his brow drawn down in confusion. What secret ace? Chas looked away and busied himself with studying Elliot's seal. Midnite sighed and picked up something from the floor in front of his seat. He pulled it up into his lap.

“Before I show you what we have I want you to understand this was completely my idea.”

“What was your idea?” John growled, positive he would not like the answer.

“I asked Chas to go to Gabriel and get Remigius.”

John let out an enraged expletive and Midnite held up his hand.

“We can't afford to turn away help in a fight like this.”

“Son of bitch!” John slammed his fist into the seat next to him. He would rather have died than gone to Gabriel for help and Midnite damn well knew it. And for him to send Chas into that monster’s lair was beyond cruel. He clenched his jaw so tight it creaked audibly. He was getting ready to let Midnite have it when a soft touch to his cheek made him pause. He raised his eyes and found Chas watching him.

“John, I'm fine.”

“You never should have had to see him.”

Chas stroked his fingers down John's cheek and neck. “I think it's better that I did. I'm less afraid of him now. Gabriel is a deeply flawed soul but it's time for me to accept the role he had in my death and move on. It's what I want for you too. We can only move on when we both let go of that night.”

The anger drained out John like dirty bathwater. He leaned back into the seat and let out a long breath.

“When the hell did you get smarter than me?”

Midnite let out a bark of laughter. “He always has been.”

John's mouth twisted and he gave a small nod.

Midnite clapped his hands. “We have our weapons and time is wasting, so I suggest we to work.”

“First there's something I need to ask,” John said. He rubbed his hands on his pants. “Are both of you sure you want to do this? This very well might be a one way trip and I don't want either of you going out of a misguided sense of duty.”

Chas threw up his hands. “You really are an ass sometimes.”

“I'm not trying to be an ass,” John protested. “All I'm saying is take a minute and be sure.”

Midnite clapped John on the shoulder. “I fight with you, my friend.”

John smiled in return then turned to Chas. “Asmodeus has already hurt you. Hurt both of us. I want to make sure he never has another chance. You have risked so much to help me. I won't ask you to do more.”

Chas looked down in his lap for a moment. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts and John forced himself to be still. With a sudden graceful surge Chas leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on John's mouth.

“We finish this together.”

“Okay, together.”


	23. For All Who Take the Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Chas discover the location of Asmodeus's lair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I know this one is late. I had a short story published on a short deadline so I had a lot of writing to do last month. Anyways thanks for sticking with me. No specific warning for this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 23: For All Who Take the Sword

 

 

“How can you be sure he knows where Asmodeus is?” Chas asked, keeping his voice low.

  
"Balthazar's involved in this. Last time I talked to him I got the feeling he knew more than he was saying, but I assumed he was too smart to join up with another demon bent on destroying the world," John grunted.

  
John and Chas had dropped Midnite off at his club where he was going to pick up supplies and contact Lillith to rendezvous with them later. Then they'd come back to the run-down apartment building John had found Balthazar at before. Currently John crouched in front of the shabby door to Balthazar's apartment, his shoes touching some dark substance he didn't want to look too closely at. He'd jammed two paper clips into the door lock and his finger worked them around to pry it open. The fluorescent lights flickered blindingly, forcing John to squint. Jeeze, Balthazar lived in a shithole. Then again not many classy options when you had to stay under the radar. Chas hovered behind him, eyes darting up and down the hall, alert for anyone coming their way.

  
"He tipped his hand though, letting me see it was him who called the cops at Elliot's apartment. He's working with Asmodeus."

  
"Hurry up John, someone's coming," Chas hissed.

  
Sweat beaded along John's forehead as two woman’s voices drifted up the stairs. They got louder and louder and John glanced behind him just as the two women reached the landing. They carried grocery bags from the local market and were talking animatedly as they headed right towards them. With a curse John shoved the paperclips back into his pocket and stood, scrambling to appear nonchalant. Without warning, Chas grabbed his shoulders and pressed him against the door.

  
"Wha-"

  
John's question was cut off by Chas's slightly moist lips covering his own. John reacted without thought, his hands finding Chas's hips, his mouth opening to let Chas's tongue inside. Pleasure took hold of him and everything but Chas disappeared. The kiss was soft, tentative: lips and tongues sliding against each other. John was hyper-aware this was the first intimacy Chas had allowed since that cursed night and he memorized every detail. An insistent pressure sprung up against John's hips and John couldn't hold back his moan when he realized Chas had an erection. Desire frayed John's control but when he tried to pull Chas closer, he broke away. John let out a frustrated protest but Chas put a finger against his lips.

  
They both scanned the hall but there was no sign of the women. John figured the sight of two men going at it hot and heavy had been enough to hurry them along. Chas let out a relieved sigh and turned back to John.

  
"That was close," he whispered.

  
John nodded. His hands still gripped Chas's hips, and his dark eyes raked over the angel. Chas blushed but he let John hold him. Endorphins screamed through John's body, urging him to forget everything the heat building between them. He bent his head and ran his nose over the column of Chas's throat, loving the soft gasp Chas gave against his ear. John worked his way up toward Chas's lips while his hands kept their lower bodies sealed together. When John's lips teased over Chas's, the angel shuddered, so he did it again. He was coming in for a third time when the screech of rusty hinges sounded down the hall. They both stiffened.

  
John strained to hear if someone was approaching them. The silence which greeted him felt sinister, as though they were being watched by an unseen pair of eyes. John put his mouth against Chas's ear.

  
"We need to get out of sight."

  
"Yeah."

  
They separated awkwardly and John fished the paperclips back out of his pocket, ignoring the hard flesh under the fabric. He went back to work with a renewed determination and a few minutes later they were inside the musty darkness of Balthazar's apartment. A quick search confirmed what they had already suspected, Balthazar was out. So they took up positions near the door and waited.

  
Half an hour later the jangle of keys came through the paper thin walls. John met Chas's eyes and gave a nod. The lock clicked open and John held his breath. A watery pool of light spread into the room as the door opened, revealing Balthazar's silhouette.   
Chas was hidden on the other side of the door and he pounced as soon as Balthazar stepped inside. The door slammed shut, once again closing them in darkness and both Chas and Balthazar grunted as they struggled. John scrambled for the light switch, the dagger Remigius clutched tight in his left hand. He flicked the switch and whirled around to find Chas had Balthazar's arm twisted up behind his back. The demon wasn't down for the count though, he struggled hard enough John worried he was about to dislocate his shoulder. Chas fought back without mercy, using his leverage to drive Balthazar to his knees with a yelp of pain.

  
Time to end the fight before the noise aroused suspicion. John charged forward, brandishing his dagger, and met Balthazar on the floor. He poked the tip of the blade against Balthazar's chest and the smell of sulfur coated his mouth and nose. A little black crater of smoking black flesh surrounded Remigius's tip.

  
"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Balthazar snarled, giving John a baleful look.

  
"Yeah, I'm nothing but trouble," John replied. He dug the dagger's point in a little further. Balthazar glanced down at the blade, his eyes going wide when he recognized it. He then whipped his head around and let out a bark of laughter when he recognized Chas.

  
"I see you brought your loyal terrier with you. I thought you would have wised up after the last time, kid."

  
Chas replied with a hard yank and Balthazar hissed in pain. "Hurry up John, the sooner we're away from this scum the better."

  
John gave Balthazar a hard look. How devoted was Balthazar to Asmodeus? Even if it was an alliance of convenience John expected Balthazar would dig in his heels out of principle.

  
"Where is he Balthazar?"

  
"Sticking your ass right back in the fire? You think what he did to you last time was bad? If he catches you again he'll never let you go.” Balthazar let out a high pitched titter. “I don't know what it is about you John, but demons sure do get a hard-on over you. You should have stayed in jail."

  
John rapped his knuckles hard on the floor, startling Balthazar and Chas.

  
“I’m in no mood to be jerked around. Tell me where he is and we’ll be on our way.”

  
Balthazar chose stubborn silence. John slapped him hard across the face.

  
“I’m not going to ask you again. Tell me where he is or I’ll jam this right through your heart and you can do your talking when Lucifer gets a hold of you.”

  
“I hate you.”

  
Balthazar sagged, the fight draining out of him like dirty bathwater. Chas struggled to keep him from impaling himself on the dagger as he slumped forward. Balthazar breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling like a thoroughbred after a race. When he spoke again his voice was defeated.

  
“He’s got a lair down in the abandoned subway tunnels. Don’t have to worry about anyone reporting the screams when you’re underground. He got your psychic down there. I lead him right to her.” Balthazar laughed again, but it was without mirth. “He’ll be waiting for you.”

  
John frowned. “Why would he be waiting for me? He thinks I’m still in jail.”

  
“He never knew you were in jail.” Balthazar snapped. “I put you there to protect him. You ruin everything you touch. I thought if I could get you out of the way I could break this obsession he has with you. I could show him that I-” Balthazar stopped abruptly, his eyes glued to the floor.

  
“Obsession?”

  
“You've clouded his vision. He came to enslave humanity, to punish your kind as they so rightly deserve, but he's faltered. He is using Angela to lure you to him first before he breaks her mind and strikes his deathblow. He thinks he's hiding it but he's no better than his father. A slave to lust rather than its master.”

  
“Who is his father?” Chas asked.

  
Balthazar stiffened like he'd said more than he meant to. “Just another weak human.”

  
“He’s a cambion?” Chas said, his dark brows rising on his forehead.

  
In John's research there had been suggestions of mixed blood but he'd written it off as heresy because Asmodeus was so powerful. He blinked in surprise and Balthazar continued.

  
“Yes, it’s his shameful secret. It’s was why I thought he was so promising. His hatred of humans goes all the way back to the womb. King David was more than happy to slake his lust with a pretty succubus but he never imagined she would get pregnant. When she told him of their love child he scorned her, going so far as to have one of his priests perform an exorcism, casting her back to Hell to nurture their son with bitterness. But weakness breeds weakness and now your claws are in him.” Balthazar spit on the floor next to John’s knees and the hatred pouring off the demon was palpable.

  
“Now all he thinks about is you. He wants to break you and then remake you into a creature only capable of worshiping him. He can't stand to be denied.”

  
The raw, wounded look in Balthazar's eyes reminded Constantine of their last encounter. And once again a dark foreboding came over him. Between the two of them it was kill or be killed, and John knew which side of the deal he wanted.

  
“Thank you Balthazar,” John said, sliding the dagger deep into his chest. Balthazar jerked hard, eyes wide before bursting around the blade, his flesh collapsing into a cloud of ash.

  
Chas straightened, coughing the demon’s remains out of his lungs. “You could have warned me. I had my mouth open and everything.”

  
John stood and gave a sheepish grin, brushing the ash off his clothes. “I like to make things up as I go.”

  
Sooty streaks marred Chas's face, hair, and clothes and John moved in close to brush him clean. His hands traveled in a smooth line down Chas's arms before starting on his chest.

  
“Well if you think I’m going down into the subway without a plan you can think again, because…” Chas’s voice trailed off.

  
John kept up his brusque rubdown until it dawned on him Chas's nipples had become hard little nubs under his palms. John brought his thumbs to them and applied a slow circular pressure. Chas bit his lower lip to stifle a gasp. John grinned and put his mouth against Chas's ear.

  
“I have a plan.”

  
Chas shuddered and pulled back, his hazel eyes luminous with desire. Need tightened John's whole body and he knew if he asked Chas would let him take him right here in Balthazar's sooty remains. He swallowed hard. Every second he wasted was one more second Angela was subject to Asmodeus. Not to mention a quick fuck in a dingy apartment wasn't the best way to repair their relationship. He released Chas, wincing at the look of confusion on his face.

  
“It’s getting late, we need to get moving,” he explained.

  
Chas nodded. They checked each other over, dusting away the worst of the soot before making their escape. John watched Chas while they crept down the stairs before making a mad dash to the cab which was parked across the street in front of the Botanica. His cock was hard. Having Chas close but not close enough had left him with a heavy, congested feeling in his testicles. Still, John was thankful Chas let him touch him at all at this point. He adjusted his pants and did his best ignore his body's hunger. John opened the passenger side door and rifled around in the glove compartment until he pulled out a street map of the city. He sat down and unfolded it across his lap, running one finger over the tangle of colored lines. When he found the spot he was looking for he tapped the map and leaned towards Chas, who had climbed in the other side.

  
“There used to be an entrance to the old subway tunnels here at the intersection of Glendale Boulevard and Second Street. They built some low income apartments there but I think the Toluca portal is still standing.”

  
“Wouldn't it be closed?”

  
“Probably nothing a pair of bolt cutters couldn't fix. Asmodeus got down there, so can we.”

  
Chas frowned and John got the feeling there was something he wanted to say. John took one of his hands and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  
“Have faith.”

  
“I have faith John, but I can't shake the feeling if I let you go to him I'm never going to see you again,” Chas said, threading his finger through John's.

  
John stroked the back of Chas's hand with his thumb. “You think I'm going to die?”

  
Chas shook his head but he'd paled considerably. “I'm being silly. It's probably nerves.”

  
John understood. Chas could not die again. His body could be destroyed and his spirit returned to heaven, but it would be painless. Death was a singular experience so his fear centered on John, who was still mortal.

  
“Whatever happens, I'm glad I got this time with you.”


	24. This Present Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas, John, Midnite and Lillith head to the abandoned subway tunnels and John and Chas have an intense moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I am of a mind to get this story finished and as such I have put aside my other projects and I'm going full speed for the final 6 chapters. I'm sure some of you have guessed that my chapter titles come from the Bible. I included the quote this chapter's title came from as an epigraph because I really like it. There is a warning for graphic sexual content in this chapter as well as some less than graphic violence. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 24: This Present Darkness

 

Ephesians 6:12   
For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

 

 

The night was warm but Chas shivered as he followed John, Midnite, and Lillith around the outside edge of the apartment building. They skirted over the packed dirt, every step scuffing a little cloud up onto the air. Chas had to take shallow breaths to keep from coughing. The sun had dipped below the horizon, the bright orange streaks fading to violet across the western sky. The boxy apartment building rose up like a dark sentinel. With shades drawn over almost all the windows it gave the impression of being of a solid mass of brick.

  
They moved with care, sticking to the shadows and keeping quiet. Chas kept glancing around, sure that any minute the police were going to roll up and haul them all off to jail. The back part of the property was surrounded by a chain link fence. John went over first, looking more graceful than he had any right to as he swung his long legs over the top. He dropped to the ground and then one by one Midnite handed the bags they had brought over to him. The houngan went next, careful to keep his long white coat from catching on the sharp metal tips. Lillith followed them, her black leather clothes and lithe movements reminding Chas of a cat as she joined John and Midnite on the other side.

  
“Your turn,” John said with a smile.

  
Skulking around abandoned buildings and climbing fences had always been Chas’s least favorite parts of working with John when he'd been human. Now, of course, things were different. Chas's wings stretched wide and with a quick flick of his muscles he vaulted over the top and landed behind the others.

  
John shook his head. “Showoff.”

  
On the other side, set in the back left corner, stood the Toluca portal. It looked more like a bunker than a subway station entrance. The apartment owners had covered up years of graffiti with sludge-green paint. The windows were boarded up and a heavy padlock served to discourage anyone from squatting down in the tunnels. A sign posted on the door announced the underground tunnels had been condemned and trespassing was against the law.

  
“Looks cozy,” Lillith whispered.

  
They all quietly set their bags on the ground and went to work. Chas unzipped the red duffel he'd been carrying and pulled out a pair of bolt cutters. John walked over to the portal, his fingers probing around the edge of the boarded up windows. Chas joined him. Even here above the tunnels they were already knee-deep in Asmodeus's filth. Chas shifted his weight from foot to foot and tugged his clothes away from his over heated skin.

  
“He’s down there, I can feel it.”

  
“Me too,” John replied.

  
Chas laid a hand against John’s back. Constantine trembled and Chas wished he could take John's fear from him. He let himself stroke comfortingly up and down John's back for a moment before he turned his attention to the door. The lock was grimy, like it hadn't been touched in years, but Chas had a bad feeling as he studied it. He hefted the bolt cutters under his arm and reached for the lock when Lillith grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

  
“Careful there,” she said, looking at the lock like it was a viper about to strike. Her golden-red hair shone even in the dark. She released Chas and held out her hand, palm open towards the door. She winced and let out a hiss. “As I thought, the lock isn’t our only problem. He’s put a ward on the door.”

  
“What kind of ward?” Midnite asked as he came up behind them.

  
“Demons can pass, along with humans tainted by their influence, but anyone else will get fried.”

  
“Can you do anything?” John asked.

  
“I can remove it, but it will alert them to our presence,” Lillith replied.

  
John swore and pinched the bridge of his nose. Chas looked back at the bags, glad they hadn't come emptyhanded. Losing the element of surprise would cost them dearly in a fight where they were already outgunned.

  
“Do it,” John barked.

  
Lillith nodded and she stepped forward again, both hands held out in front of her. A surge of energy filled the air until Chas had to pop his ears to relieve the pressure. After a moment she shuddered and a puff of smoke that smelled of burnt ozone wafted off the lock. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead and she quickly wiped them away.

  
“It's done,” she said, then she motioned the others close to her and whispered. “There are guards waiting, at least three.”

  
Midnite responded by opening his bag and, silent as a wraith, removing a silver-barreled shotgun. John grinned and unsheathed Remigius. Lillith had brought a whip which she now unhooked from her belt. At first Chas had thought it would be a little puny for the fight they were expecting but the more Chas looked at it the more it disturbed him. The deep, sinister black length swirled and pulsed with a malevolent sentience. Chas edged away, certain down to his bones he never wanted to come into contact with it. With their weapons at the ready they all looked to him.

  
Chas reached down for the little .22 caliber Beretta the was strapped to his ankle. He had bought it years ago, before his death, after a particularly frightening encounter with a drug addict while waiting in an alley for Constantine. It had been one of the few possessions he'd managed to get back after his death, and though being an angel had rendered its protection mostly unnecessary, Chas had kept it for sentimental reasons. Midnite had given him several clips of special rounds made from melted crucifixes. He turned the safety off and then looked at John.

  
“Let's go.”

  
John went for the door handle and the others stood in a loose semi circle, ready to take out Asmodeus's welcome party. The door opened with a low creak and a wall of darkness greeted their eyes. Without waiting for a target, Midnite lifted his gun and fired into the room. A low scream answered, followed by a puff of nostril-searing sulfur. The other two came at them then, both charging full tilt. Lillith caught one in the face with a sharp strike of he whip and he shrieked as the leather sliced through him like a hot knife through butter. The scream was cut off as his body collapsed into a pile of smoking ash. The last demon paused, eyes darting around in horror. Chas and Midnite both fired and he exploded.

  
“Get inside quick!” John commanded, rushing over to help grab their supplies. “Someone will have heard that.”

  
They scampered inside and John closed the door behind them. Chas's breath stuck in his chest as darkness surrounded him. It clung to him like pawing hands and he expected at any moment a horde of demons would overwhelm them and drag them down into the tunnels. On instinct he drew up his own light, the glow from his body easing the panic in his chest as it revealed his surroundings. The inside of the Toluca Portal was mostly stripped bare, the walls and floor showing their age and disuse. Several metal turnstiles still rose up from the floor, rust thick at the bases. Behind them a cavernous tunnel opened onto the staircase to the underground levels. The echoes of their entrance bounced around long after they all had stilled.

  
John dug a flashlight out of his backpack and clicked it on. He swept over the room in a methodical way and then hopped a turnstile and shone the light down over the slick cement steps. He craned his neck and motioned for the others to keep quiet. After a tense few minutes he lowered the light to the floor and looked back at them.

  
“I don't hear anyone coming,” he said.

  
“They'll let us come to them,”Lillith replied, stretching her neck like there was a cramp in the muscles.

  
Chas had the same sensation, his whole body ached with unsatisfied desire. A damp, sour smell wafted up from the tunnel and he wrinkled his nose.

  
“Midnite, get out the map, please,” John requested.

  
Midnite pulled a long, rolled-up piece of paper from his bag and unrolled it on the cement floor. He'd used a contact in the city government to get a copy of the maps of the old rail lines. He clenched his flashlight between his teeth and Chas knelt down to help him hold the map open. John and Lillith joined them on the ground. The main line went straight through, with two lines branching off from it.

  
“What exactly did Balthazar say?” Midnite asked.

  
“He said Asmodeus was hiding down in the abandoned subway tunnels, but didn't give me much else to go on.”

  
“He told you Asmodeus is obsessed with you,” Chas grumbled.

  
“Oh really? Now there's something we can use to our advantage,” Lillith said.

  
Chas gritted his teeth until his jaw creaked. It had already become painfully obvious John intended to use Asmodeus's obsession with him as leverage to get Angela back. Lillith clearly wanted his offer to be explicitly sexual. He kept his objections inside but John watched him with knowing eyes.

  
“I'm going to go down first. If Asmodeus wants me, none of the others would dare to lay a hand on me. Once I find him, I'll keep him distracted.”

  
Chas had to swallow hard as his stomach lurched.

  
“I want you guys to give me fifteen minutes before you come down. Chas, I need you to find where he's holding Angela. Search the main line first before you take any of the branches. Midnite and Lillith will help you. I'm sure Asmodeus will have her under guard. Once you have her, you get her out of there.”

  
“What about you?” Chas said.

  
“Once you and Angela are out safe Midnite and Lillith will come back for me. Midnite has Elliot's journal and we'll use the seal to set a trap for Asmodeus. Then we'll use this little beauty to send him back to Hell.” John grinned and pointed to Remigius.

  
“I don’t like it,” Chas said frankly.

  
John laughed. “I don’t like it either.”

  
John stood in a swift motion and grabbed Chas's upper arm, pulling him into a tight embrace. Chas floundered for a moment and then circled his arms around John. He took strength from having Constantine holding him. He had to believe they would make it through this or he would collapse right here.

  
Lillith cleared her throat and Chas reluctantly released John.

  
“Before you boys start in with the tearful goodbyes, I thought I might run an idea past you.”

  
John raised an eyebrow. “Okay, shoot.”

  
“You plan is to waltz down there and ask the first demon you see to take you to Asmodeus?”

  
John shrugged. “Yeah. Balthazar made it pretty clear Asmodeus wants me bad enough he's jeopardizing his entire cause to get me.”

  
“Good, lust is his power but it is also his greatest weakness. But you can't go to him passively, that gives him power, you must make him come to you.”

  
Lillith had the decency to look sorry for what she was saying but Chas still wanted to tell her to shut up.

  
“And how do you suggest I do that? Go down there and start shouting his name?” John said. He slid a hand around Chas's waist and pulled him close, like he sensed how close Chas was to snapping.

  
“Effective, but crude,” Lillith said with a sardonic grin. “I'll be blunt: you want him off balance, thinking with his cock instead of his brain. If you make him come to you then you meet him on your terms, which gives you an advantage.”

  
A brittle tension filled the small concrete room. John's hand clenched the fabric of Chas's shirt. Chas's vision had gone red and he shut his eyes to try and calm down. Lillith must have understood her point had been made because she jerked her thumb towards the door.

  
“So, Midnite and I are going to step outside and make sure those gunshots didn't alert anyone.”

  
She turned and walked away, leaving John and Chas to chew on her abrasive wisdom. Soft watery murmurs and the occasional metallic clink echoed up from the darkness down below as Chas and John stood there each waiting for the other to speak first.

  
Finally John leaned over and brushed his lips against Chas's cheek. “I'm sorry, I know this is hurting you. I don't want to make this any harder so why don't you give me a couple minutes alone.”

  
“You're going to do it?” Chas's voice came out more distressed than he intended.

  
“I'm out of options Chas. Angela is down there and if Lillith thinks being aroused will help than I'm inclined to believe her.”

  
All the blood drained from Chas's face. Asmodeus was going to put his hands on John and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it. He turned to go, feeling like his chest was caving in when the soft clink of John's belt buckle coming undone stopped him dead in his tracks. Chas had told John he could handle the reality of being with him, and while John's possession had scared him he wasn't ready to give up. John may be going to Asmodeus but he was here with Chas now. He whipped around and found John with his pants hanging open, long fingers unbuttoning his boxers to give Chas a peek at black pubic hair and pale skin. Lust sank it claws into Chas's belly and pulled him down in it's dark undertow.

  
"Chas?" John stopped with his hand poised to reach in and grab his dick.

  
“I want to stay,” Chas said, avidly watching John tease his fingers over the open pucker at his groin.

  
“Why?”

  
Chas flicked his tongue over his lower lip and met John's dark eyes. The light from his body illuminated the raw desire on John's face and Chas drew forward. As he closed in the urge to touch John spread through him like wildfire till they stood a hairsbreadth apart.

  
“Because I want you to be thinking about how good it felt to have my hands on your cock when you're down there with Asmodeus,” Chas replied. Something about standing here in this dark, dirty building, not knowing what the future held, had made him bold.

  
John gave a little shudder and pushed down his underwear, exposing himself. Chas lowered his eyes. John's penis stood erect without having been touched, it jutted long and proud into the space between them. He reached out and ran a single finger up the underside of John's shaft. Constantine let out a ragged breath. Chas kissed him and John sunk his teeth into his lower lip. His whole body trembled with nerves and excitement.

  
John pulled back and asked, "Am I scaring you Chas?"

  
Chas grabbed John's penis, tracing the tip gently over the answering hardness trapped inside his pants.

  
"Do I seem scared to you?"

  
He stroked hard and John pushed his hips forward and moaned. Under the curse John's reactions had been raw and intense and Chas had wondered if he would be as passionate without demonic lust boiling in his blood. He was not disappointed. John writhed, and gasped, and leaked his pleasure all over Chas's hand. He took his time, exploring John from root to tip, mapping out all the sensitive places. It was different from last time with John present in the moment, and Chas wished he could get John inside him again. Constantine's mouth was all over him, kissing and nipping his lips, jaw, and neck. Chas sped up his hand and John rocked up into his strokes.

  
"Does it feel good?" Chas whispered.

  
John nodded, then his whole body went stiff and he grabbed Chas's hand, pulling it away. "You're going to make me come."

  
John held Chas's hand away from him in a bruising grip while he took several measured breaths. Chas could relate, his own erection screamed for attention in his pants. He swiveled his hips involuntarily and John's eyes snapped to his crotch. He smiled a wicked smile and then began to move Chas backward till he bumped against the rough cement wall.

  
“John?” Chas asked, his heart doing aerobics in his chest.

  
John slowly lowered to his knees and Chas couldn't help the needy whimper he let out.

  
"John, what are you doing?"

  
Constantine lifted Chas's shirt and kissed his belly before hooking his finger under the waistband of his pants and exposing his cock with a rough motion.

  
"I want to kiss you," John said, dipping down and placing a soft kiss on the tip on Chas's erection. "Here."

  
"Oh God."

  
The wall at Chas's back was the only thing keeping him upright. He reached down, running his fingers through Constantine's soft black locks. John kissed and nuzzled and teased but never took him in his mouth. Chas squirmed, it embarrassed him to have John so focused on his genitals but the pleasure was undeniable. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he reached down and set the head of his penis against John's mouth.

  
"Please."

  
John complied and sucked him in hard. Chas hissed and looked down, watching his dick slide in and out of John's mouth. The sight was overwhelming and obscene and Chas couldn't look away. John flicked his tongue over the slit in the head and Chas jerked his hips forward, hands shooting to John's shoulders to pull him closer. Spit leaked down Chas's testicles as they drew tight in anticipation of his climax. He bit the inside of his cheek, wanting to ride out the razor's edge for as long as possible because once he came, John was going to go. Tears speared his eyes and he began an involuntary pumping with his hips until his whole body trembled.

  
"Oh, shit, I'm coming. I'm coming,” Chas gasped.

  
He wondered if John would pull away but he found himself taken deep as he pulsed in climax. He chanted John's name softly over and over again while the surges of pleasure emptied him out.

  
When he'd finished John pulled back and swallowed. He placed one more light kiss on the tip before tugging Chas's pants back in place. He stood, bringing his own slick and straining cock back to Chas's attention. Chas made a move to touch him but John stepped back.

  
“Don't. If you touch me I won't be able to stop. I'm already so close.”

  
Chas nodded reluctantly. John closed his erection back up in his pants and a fist clenched around Chas's heart. There were a million things he wanted to say to John but the timing was all wrong. Instead he let out a long breath and walked over to the bags they had brought with them.

  
“What are you thinking of bringing down with you?”

 

“Not much,” John admitted, “If I go down there armed to the teeth my little seduction isn't going to work.”

  
Chas winced when John said seduction. He rummaged around in the bag in front of him until his fingers closed on a smooth glass globe.

  
“At least take one of these,” he said, holding out the vial of holy water out to John. Constantine took it from him and pocketed it. He then undid his pants again and Chas's heart skipped a beat.

  
“Don't get excited. I just have to hide the dagger.”

  
A rush of warmth suffused Chas's cheeks and he tried not to stare at the outline of John's hard cock while Constantine tucked the dagger's sheath against his thigh. When John had his pants zipped up again he picked up the backpack he had brought and held it out to Chas.

  
“I want you to keep this with you. It has some things you may need.”

  
Chas took the bag and looked inside. There was the length of rope John had anointed with holy oil, along with a bible, a crucifix larger than his hand, and a lighter. He closed the bag again and hugged it close to his chest. John stood again and Chas knew the time had come.

  
"I'm going to head down. Give me at least fifteen minutes before you follow, okay? As horny as I am, I should have him panting after me like a dog, but let's play it safe. We have no idea what's waiting down there so you keep your gun loaded and drawn, understand?”

  
“I got it,” Chas said, squeezing the bag even tighter to himself to keep from grabbing John.

  
“Chas, no heroics. You find Angela and get her out."

  
Chas frowned. "If you're not back once she's safe I'm coming to get you."

  
“I'll be back.”

  
John gave Chas a quick kiss then bent and picked one of the flashlights off the floor. John used the light to illuminate his path as he started down the stairs.

  
"Stay safe," Chas called. His voice came out thick like his throat was full of peanut butter.

  
Constantine smiled back at him. "You too."

  
Chas stood at the top step until John hit the first landing and turned, disappearing from sight. Then his legs began to shake and he sat down quickly. Another minute or so passed and Midnite peaked his head in the door to the portal.

 

“All clear?” he asked.

  
“Yes,” Chas replied. “He's gone down.” 

 


	25. The Root of David

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds Asmodeus and tries to resist the demon's dark temptations in order to buy his friends time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I have the new chapter ready and just 4 more to go after this. This chapter does come with a couple warnings, one for dubious consent, and another for several graphic depictions of violence. As always I love to hear from you guys and I am so thankful to those who have commented and subscribed and given their feedback. It really means the world to me. Enjoy!

Chapter 25: The Root of David

 

 

 

The cement steps got slicker the further underground John went. He squinted his eyes and put his hand to the wall, hoping the next step wouldn't be the one to send him careening into a brutal fall. His body was lit up like an inferno and the taste of Chas's release lay heavy on his tongue. He'd worried nerves would kill his arousal, but with Asmodeus's energy getting stronger as he descended and his cock already full to bursting he knew he wouldn't have trouble selling his sex.

He reached the platform and the echo of his footsteps became thunderous. He lifted the flashlight, the beam sliding over the pillars and pockets of shadow. His heart pounded in his chest, sure at any second a horde of demons would come pouring out of the darkness. The fetid stench of raw sewage hung in the air thick as a film of scum on a dirty fish tank. John covered his mouth and nose with the sleeve on his free arm. Once he was fairly convinced he was alone he walked forward to the edge platform.

The tunnel greeted him with a wide open mouth. John shone his light into the maw but the beam didn't pierce much of the gloom. It had flooded down here recently and the track was awash in mud and debris. The far left edge of the platform had collapsed, giant chunks of cement dotting the filth like lily pads. John walked over and tentatively lowered himself down onto the rubble. He scrambled over the debris until he was faced with the mire if he wanted to go further. He tested the ground with the toe of his shoe. The mud sucked it in a good inch.

“Yuck,” John muttered. There were several other sets of footprints in the mud, but John didn't think this was the entrance Asmodeus and his followers used. There came a clatter from down the tunnel and John swung his light up in time to catch a rat nosing through a pile of trash. Constantine laughed to try and ease the vice in his chest and wiped his slick palms on his shirt. “Quit wasting time.”

He took the first step and the mud squelched under his weight. John's progress was slow as he slipped and slid and stumbled his way down into the mouth of the tunnel. Mud caked his shoes and clung to the cuffs of his pants but he kept up, putting one foot after the other.

Suddenly, out of the darkness, his flashlight caught the hulking form of an old subway car lodged inside the mouth of the tunnel. The paint had mostly rusted away and only a few splashes of red and yellow remained on the metal skeleton. He craned his neck trying to find passage around, but it was no use. The car blocked off the tunnel so well John suspected it had been done deliberately. He stepped up and popped the flashlight in his mouth before stretching his arms up to the top. He found purchase in an open window for a second, but then a sharp pain slashed across his fingers. He pulled back and saw the metal had sliced deep into his skin. John cursed and unbuttoned his shirt with his free hand. He tugged off the fabric and wrapped it around his hands before grabbing the window frame again. With his hands protected from the metal’s bite he hauled himself up with a grunt.

Once on top he stayed low for fear of making himself a target and kept a wary eye of the dark open windows as he crawled across. Someone had spray painted the words “Ride to Oblivion” in jagged black letters on the broad side of the car. From down the tunnel there came a clatter and Constantine scrambled to turn off his flashlight and flattened himself against the subway car, his breath frozen in his chest. There were footsteps, possibly more than one set approaching him. Their strange warbling whispers caressed him in the dark, crawling like insistent fingers over the back of his neck and down into his ears. With the tunnel distorting the sound it was impossible to tell how close they were until they were practically on top of him.

There were two of them, a man and a woman. He suspected they were demons because they weren’t using any flashlights but he dared not lift his head to get a look at them. They were mere feet from the subway car, prowling around like big cats at the zoo, waiting for a meal.

“We shouldn’t be here Maya, the Master said-”

“Quit being such a whiner. If you want to go back, then go back, but I swear I heard something down here.”

The male let out a peevish sigh. “It's probably just a rat.”

“I think it’s a rat alright,” Maya sneered, and a shot of ice ran down John’s spine. “A big one.”

She grabbed John then, reaching her hands up to tangle in his hair and haul him over the edge. His eyes watered and he barely managed to keep himself from face planting into the sludge of shit and glass on the ground. She didn't let him get his balance, instead slamming him into the subway car, John's head connecting viciously with metal. The clang from the impact ricocheted around them, the pain and noise making John sick to his stomach.

“Well, well, well what have we here?”

The woman, Maya, came up against John's chest, her body making him feel hot and confined, like he was stuck under a comforter in the middle of summer. The other demon moved in closer too, ruby shimmer shining out from his owlish blue eyes.

“Let me go,” John said. He'd bitten his tongue during the fall, and it no longer fit in his mouth right.

They ignored him. Instead the woman pressed her face into the side of his neck and inhaled deeply. A shudder traveled through her amazonian frame and John flinched.

“You smell like a bitch in heat,” she whispered.

“I think he's the one the Master spoke of,” the male said. He kept peering around them and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Right, Constantine.” She grabbed John then and dug her lacquered nails deep into the skin of his upper arms. He jerked hard, trying to get an arm free to go for the vial of holy water in his pocket.

“What’s the matter, scaredy cat?”

Before John could answer, the air surrounding them filled with a palpable tingle of lust and both demons let out low moans. John’s erection punched the zipper of his pants and he squeezed his eyes closed.

“Take you hands off him.”

Asmodeus's voice hit John like the fangs of a snake, sinking deep and spreading venom in his veins. He opened his eyes but only the dark tunnel greeted him.

“Master we merely wanted to–” the male’s voice quavered and he backed away from Constantine with his hands raised.

“Silence, Adrian!”

Maya released John and went to her knees, cringing on the floor in supplication.

Asmodeus’s eyes appeared first, the burning orange orbs floating, disembodied in the black air. His eyes ensnared John and he found himself unable to look away as the demon strode into the dim light thrown off by the flashlight. His pale hair and aristocratic features were beautiful and John let his eyes linger over the demon’s body. After all, he was here to play the part of willing supplicant.

Asmodeus smiled. “Come here John.”

Constantine pushed away from the subway car and walked over. As he neared Asmodeus he faltered and the demon grabbed his arm, drawing him in close. The touch of those hot fingers lit John’s body on fire. He panted, open mouthed and the wound on his neck sizzled with a near electrical charge. The other two demons watched them closely, their eyes roving over the scene like hyenas watching a lion go in for the kill. John swallowed hard when he realized he was the scraps they were hoping to pick over. He startled back to the present as Asmodeus sniffed along the curve of his neck, his tongue darting wetly over his earlobe.

“Pay them no mind. I have no intention of sharing you...yet. I do, however, think a little privacy is in order.”

He melded his body to John’s, and before Constantine could say anything, the air in his lungs turned to cement and the world around him shifted dazzlingly.

The trip took only seconds but when John found himself once again in one solid piece he fell to his knees and retched. In a surprising gesture of comfort, Asmodeus knelt down next to him, one hand running over his back.

“Breathe slowly, it will pass.”

“Where are we?” John gasped, afraid Asmodeus had taken him out of the reach of his friends.

“In my chamber.”

John blinked to clear his eyes and looked around the room. It was dark, the only light coming from a small portable lantern placed near the door. The walls were bare cement and John guessed the floor was too, but it was obscured from view by a swath of mattresses and blankets covering almost every inch. Asmodeus stood and interrupted his survey of the room with a deep purr.

“Why have you come here John?”

“I had to,” John replied, standing on shaky legs like a newborn colt. “What you did to me in the darkness of my dream… I’ve never known such sensations. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

John chose his words with care and brought two fingers to his bottom lip after he spoke, like his mind had drifted into a carnal fantasy. Asmodeus snatched John’s hand and brought it to his own mouth, sucking those two fingers into a warm wet cavern. John moaned and grit his teeth. Asmodeus’s tongue gliding over his fingers was fucking incredible, like every nerve ending had a direct line to his brain’s pleasure center. Still, he did his best to steel himself against Asmodeus’s touch, aware of the demon’s power to break people.

Asmodeus pulled John’s finger out of his mouth with a wet pop. “You said you would never be mine.”

“I know and I don’t want to be, but I can’t help myself.”

Asmodeus chuckled and drew John tight against his body, pressing a massive erection against his hip.

“I have that effect on humans.”

The force of Asmodeus bore down on him and a strange fuzziness crept into John's thoughts, dulling everything except the desire to be closer to the demon. He cuddled close, his own cock getting harder by the second. Asmodeus pressed him harder.

“What of the woman I’ve taken from you? Did you come here to make some heartfelt plea on her behalf? Perhaps you think to offer yourself in her place.”

John shook his head and wiped sweat out of his eyes, being this close to the demon had perspiration pouring off of him. Asmodeus caught him off guard with a wet swipe of his tongue along his cheek and for a brief second he couldn’t remember Angela’s name.

"I wasn't made for patience John.”

Constantine peeled his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “Yes, I came to ask you to let Angela go.”

Asmodeus sneered.

“But... now, here with you, it doesn’t seem so important.” John furrowed his brow. A buzzing inside his head nagged at him to remember something, but he could not focus through the fog of lust. The hands at his back clenched convulsively, claws scraping over his skin. Instead of pain, though, John let out a moan as the tears in his skin sparked a wave of pleasure so strong John had to clutch Asmodeus to keep himself standing. He looked up and the demon’s amber eyes burned him to his very soul, forcing him to accept that a weak, awful part of him wanted to belong to this creature.

“Good boy. Tell me you want to be mine John. I can sense the darkness within you, it has been restrained for so long, let me set it free.”

Asmodeus kissed him then, his fangs shredding John’s lower lip so a rush of coppery blood spread between their mouths. Lust bloomed inside John, a living, writhing force he feared would claw its way out of him if he tried to stop. When Asmodeus released him, he gasped for breath.

"Please," he panted, unsure where the words came from. "Please, I’ll do anything you want, just let me be yours."

Asmodeus petted John’s hair. "I like it when you're begging me."

John reached down to cup the demon’s prick. Asmodeus thrust into his hand, the massive organ throbbing with power. Unbidden, a tide of overwhelming need rose in John’s gut and he began to shake. He dropped to his knees on instinct and ran his tongue over the leather-covered outline of Asmodeus’s cock. Strong hands fisted his hair, painfully tight.

“Worship me,” Asmodeus commanded. He tore open his leather pants and his monstrous organ sprang free.

John let out a soft whine, his body tense with the memory of being impaled on that pulsing staff of flesh. Being down on his knees in front of another man it was impossible for John to keep Chas out of his thoughts and his heart gave a painful shudder. He grabbed the base and sucked the head into his mouth, focusing on the act rather than his conflicted heart. Even the nerves on the inside of his mouth responded to Asmodeus. The touch of his flesh like hot lava. John’s cock strained desperately in the confines of his pants and he palmed himself with his free hand unable to wait any longer.

“Are you touching yourself John?” Asmodeus purred, his tone dangerous.

Constantine pulled off his cock and nodded, a deep pink staining his cheeks. His hand worked furiously beneath the fabric of his pants and he was too far gone to stop himself. Asmodeus bit his lip and slapped his cock against the side of John’s face.

“You are truly beautiful like this.”

John opened his mouth to respond and Asmodeus shoved his dick in, forcing himself all the way to the back of John’s throat. John’s body rebelled at the rough treatment and he gagged hard. A thick rush of saliva spilled from the corners of his mouth but Asmodeus held him tight. Panic tensed his muscles and Constantine brought up both of his hands up, shoving at Asmodeus’s hips with all his strength. Asmodeus laughed and released him and John fell back on his ass, coughing and gasping.

“That hurt,” John said once he’d recovered.

Asmodeus bent over and grabbed his chin. “You said you would do anything I wanted. Did you mean it? If I choose to end your life with the glorious communion of our bodies will you accept my decision as your master?”

A wash of dread poured over John and the burning lust coursing through his blood cooled to ash. Asmodeus stared down, his face hardened in dangerous appraisal. The hair raised on the back of John's neck and he lowered his eyes lest they give him away.

“Yes, Master.”

Asmodeus stroked his head in approval. “Submission to me can never be halfhearted John. I'm glad you agree. Now open up.”

John wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his stomach roiling at the thought of putting his mouth back on Asmodeus, but he had to give the others more time. He closed his eyes and retreated inside himself as he sucked Asmodeus's cock again. The pleasure was undeniable but now John's mind was insulated from it, his consciousness a separate entity from his body. He kept a clear picture of Chas and Angela in his mind to keep himself from sliding into Asmodeus's grasp again. As if sensing his distance Asmodeus reached under his chin to tilt his face up, forcing John to look up at him.

“Is it as good as you imagined to have me inside you?”

John pulled off and teased the slit in the head with his tongue. “Yes.”

Asmodeus tipped his hips up and pushed his cock back into John’s mouth, thrusting lazily in and out. There was a palpable air of danger coalescing around them and John’s muscles twitched in response. He breathed heavily through his nose and took strength from the weight of Remigius against his thigh. On a deep thrust in Asmodeus spoke again in a lazy drawl.

“Even better than when you were sucking off your angel earlier?” John went utterly still. Asmodeus gave a cruel, vulpine smile.

“Did you think I didn't know? I can smell him all over you.” He continued fucking John’s mouth while he spoke. “It doesn’t matter really, you will never see him again. Once I’ve claimed every inch of your body and mind I’ll have you watch with me as I let my followers have a taste of what it’s like to defile an angel.”

One of Asmodeus’s hands came up against his cheek in a gesture that seemed tender until he pierced the skin of John’s jaw with one of his claws. A drop of blood slid down along John’s neck and blotted the fabric of his shirt. A swell of hatred so fierce it stole his breath away rose within John. He could not stand to hear Chas’s name in Asmodeus’s filthy mouth. All thoughts of distraction and his part of the plan were wiped from John’s mind and he struck without thought. His teeth closed on the flesh in his mouth and his left hand dove for the dagger in his pants. Asmodeus howled and backhanded John across the face. John locked his jaw and pulled away, taking a sizable chunk of Asmodeus’s privates with him. His head reeled from the blow and he quickly turned and spit the burning mixture of acidic blood and the demon’s ruined flesh onto the floor.

“You stupid little insect.” Asmodeus advanced on John, grabbing his left forearm, and with one quick jerk snapped both the bones.

John screamed.

“Did you think you could come here and play the whore for me and I wouldn’t see right through you? I knew from the very beginning you were trying to play me.”

John groaned and tried to get his feet under him but the pain was so bad he teetered on the verge of unconsciousness. A downward glance revealed a jagged wet edge of bone protruding from his skin. Asmodeus's voice became distorted, John’s body unable to process the sensory information through the shock. A clawed hand twisted into his shirt hauling him to his feet. He made another grab for the dagger but Asmodeus slapped him again, so hard he worried his teeth were going to fall out. He hauled John up so their faces were mere inches apart.

“Your precious holy dagger can’t save you.”

John blinked in surprise and Asmodeus scoffed. “Oh John, you're pathetic, I sensed it the moment you crossed my barrier. Know this: I will find them. And when I do, I'll tear them apart and feed him to my followers. As for your psychic, she will make a much more useful toy than you ever would have."

"She won't have much to do since I bit your dick off," John said, bloody saliva leaking from the corner of his mouth.

"It'll grow back."

Asmodeus hit him again, the blow coming against the right side of his chest. The air was pushed from John's lungs with the force of it, a tremor running through his whole body. A trickle of wetness dripped down onto his belly and John looked down, his vision shifting in slow motion. Asmodeus's claws were buried in his chest, a red stain spreading around them on his white shirt.

John’s brain kicked back into gear and a spike of pain lanced up his side. Asmodeus pulled his claws free and John tried to scream, but it came out as a hoarse grunt. With Asmodeus’s claws removed a great gush of blood washed down his chest, soaking his pants. Asmodeus brought his bloody hand up to his face and licked his fingers. The strength drained out of John's body with his blood and when Asmodeus released his grip John plummeted to the ground. He lay face down in the mattress and he couldn't breathe. Every beat of his heart grayed out his vision a little more. Asmodeus stepped over his body.

"Goodbye, John Constantine."


	26. A Cage for Every Hated Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas, Midnite, and Lillith try to find Angela and end up having to deal with Asmodeus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright we are right in the middle of the good stuff now and only 3 chapters are left to come. This chapter contains a warning for graphic depictions of violence. Thanks again for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 26: A Cage for Every Hated Bird

 

 

Exactly fifteen minutes after John disappeared down the stairs Chas, Midnite and Lillith stepped onto the platform at the bottom. They clung close together, their flashlights taking a full circle spin around their jet back surroundings, revealing only bare cement and dust motes floating in the air. The stillness of this place made Chas uneasy. Lillith had said they would know the barrier had been breached, so where was everyone?

“Lillith hold my light, I know there is an entrance to the maintenance shaft from this platform,” Midnite said, holding his flashlight out to her. Once she took it he tugged the folded map out of his coat pocket and began to scan over it.

Chas wandered off while they fussed over the map and found himself peering off the edge of the platform. There were fresh footprints in the mud below and his heart ached as he thought of John walking alone down into the tunnel. He craned his neck and held his breath. Watery distorted echoes drifted back to him and he tried to convince himself John was okay. Constantine had handled big bad demons before and even Gabriel recognized the aura of luck John carried with him. Chas whispered a fierce prayer for John’s safety, hoping even if his fellow angels disapproved of this fight, God still watched over them.

“Chas!” Midnite hissed, motioning for him to rejoin them.

Chas hurried back over to where Midnite held the map open between himself and Lillith.

“The entrance to the maintenance tunnel should be over along the left-hand wall. I think it’s our best bet of getting around without running into a swarm of demons. The tunnel will be tight quarters, so even if they have guards we should be able to handle them.”

Chas nodded. He could sense a thundercloud of demonic energy up ahead in the tunnel but there was no telling how far they would have to go to find Angela. He tugged the straps of the backpack John had given him.

“Okay, I’ll keep an ear out for Angela.”

“Once we’re moving, no talking unless absolutely necessary. Sound travels in odd ways underground,” Lillith added, running her fingers over the length of her whip.

Midnite refolded the map and as a group they crossed the platform, lights searching for the door. They found it tucked back in an alcove two feet from the platform’s edge. Rust had claimed most of the door, warping it so badly it no longer fit in the frame, but smatterings of red paint still shone in several places. The handle had been ripped off, leaving an open hole in the door. Lillith went first, her whip at the ready. She inched the door open with the toe of her boot and the hinges let out a hideous screech of protest, the sound bouncing back at them from every corner of the room. Chas winced as it drilled into his ears.

One the sound had died down, they all crowded the doorway and looked inside. The tunnel was narrower than Chas had expected: they would have to walk single file to keep from smashing each other. A carpet of paper trash and empty bottles littered the floor and the air inside had an unpleasant metallic tang. The smell reminded Chas of blood.

With silent agreement they filed into the dark corridor. Lillith went first, her weapon the most suited for close quarters combat. Chas was next, his wings tucked in to keep from scraping against the walls. Midnite came last, a flashlight and a vial of holy water clutched in his hands and a grim set to his face. Progress was slow and they picked their steps with care to minimize noise.

The first several feet were accompanied by nail biting tension, Chas sure at any minute they would be surrounded by demons and picked off one by one. But after a while the staccato of shallow breaths and the constant stream of trash he had to pick his way through lulled his mind into a sort of trance and he had no idea how long he’d been walking when he ran into Lillth who had stopped short ahead of him. Asmodeus’s miasma hung thickly in the air and when she turned, leaning into him, Chas realized his penis was stiff and lay hot against his thigh. Her lips brushed his ear.

“Someone is coming towards us.”

Chill fingers tugged at Chas’s gut. On instinct he clicked off his flashlight and Midnite followed suit without being told. In the dark the loudest noise Chas could make out was his own heartbeat but he knew they were not alone. Next to him Lillith uncoiled her whip. It whispered over the debris on the ground and Chas stepped back, his skin prickling in anticipation. An empty bottle clinked as it tipped over and Lillith sprang into action, her whip snapping forward with an accuracy Chas couldn’t believe. It cut through the darkness and caught the demon in the chest. He sizzled into a sulfurous cloud and they all held their breath and waited.

At last Midnite spoke. “I don’t think he came down here looking for us.”

“Me either,” Lillith echoed, but her weapon remained at the ready.

Chas shook his head, with so many demons concentrated near them it was impossible to pinpoint anyone until they were practically on top of them.

“Lets keep going,” he said, needing to move now or he would stay paralyzed forever.

They started up again, and after about fifteen feet a door came up on the left side of the tunnel. Midnite tried the handle: it was unlocked and swung out onto an empty stretch of tunnel. Midnite’s light showed rubble littered over the muddy ground. He was about to shut the door when the tenor of a male voice reached them. Midnite froze, the door hanging open an inch and waited. After a few seconds they hear an answering soprano titter, closer than before.

“Let me out,” Lillith whispered fiercely.

“What?” Chas said, grabbing her arm as she tried to push past him.

“You want to know where the girl is right?” She shot back, yanking her arm out of his grasp. “Stay here and leave the door open a crack. If I get into trouble you come through guns blazing.”

Chas stared after her as she threaded her whip back through one of her belt loops and then stepped out into the darkness. Midnite closed the door behind her, putting his ear to the crack to wait. Chas scooted forward and leaned in to listen too. The voices continued to close in, the lilting tones of playful conversation bouncing off the concrete walls. Lillith called out in an unsettling sing song.

“Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum”

The voices fell silent and Chas and Midnite held their breath. After a long pause Lillith spoke again, and this time she was not alone.

“Two little lost sheep I see before me.”

“And who are you?” A female voice answered her with a sharp question.

“A servant, like you,” Lillith answered.

“What are you doing down here? Did the Master send you after us? I knew we never should have left.” This voice came from the male and dripped anxiety.

“Come now silly babies, the Master said no wandering off. You had to know your adventuring would lead to trouble,” Lillth answered, and Chas shuddered at the edge of danger in her words.

“Oh please, I'll do anything, just don't–” the male begged.

“Shut up Adrian!” the female snapped. “Why should we believe you? If the Master was mad at us, why didn’t he punish us himself before he ran off to fuck his exorcist?”

“Obviously getting his dick wet was more important to him than disciplining you two idiots.”

Chas grimaced at her choice of words and he had to take several deep breaths through his nose.

“Maya, don’t make it worse,” Adrian implored.

“No. I don’t believe her,” Maya replied and a thrill of warning coiled up Chas’s spine. He slowly reached down and pulled his gun out of its holster and next to him Midnite readied his shotgun.

“Your friend there is right, pissing me off will only make it worse. But, to be honest, punishing you two sounds like a drag so I’m willing to make a deal and let you go.”

The offer hung in the air, but Chas knew almost immediately Lillith had overplayed her hand.

“You know, I don't think I've seen you around here before,” Maya said, her tone venomous.

Chas and Midnite didn't wait, they barreled through the door, weapons drawn on the pair of demons in front of them. Adrian dropped to his knees and cowered in the dirt but Maya met them head on ready to fight.

“I knew it! Master said fools like you were coming for us. Imagine how happy he will be when I hand him your severed heads.” Maya lunged for Lillith and Chas's gun gave a little kick as it went off. The bullet ended Maya in a sulfurous cloud of ash so cloying it made Chas's eyes water. He coughed and wiped the wetness away and when his vision cleared he found Lillith had the male, Adrian, pinned to the cement wall, her hand digging into his throat and her eyes glowing green.

“Tell me where Asmodeus has the human!” she said, and her voice boomed inside Chas's head, making him want to lay belly up in surrender on the floor.

“I don't know!” A thin dark stream appeared down the right side of the demon's pant leg.

“Tell me!”

“Oh Lucifer, make it stop!” Adrian brought his hands up to his ears and his palms came away bloodied. “Alright I'll tell you. He's got her in an old maintenance office off the platform down there.” He pointed down the tunnel ahead of them.

Lillith set her free hand palm down against the demon's forehead and his eyes rolled up inside his skull while his body went into a rigid spasm. She held him like that for several minutes and then she let him go and he slumped into a boneless heap on the ground.

She turned back to Chas and Midnite, the glow fading from her eyes. “He's telling the truth. I think we can get there from the maintenance shaft but he has her well guarded.”

“Then we better get moving,” Midnite said and he opened the door for the others.

Chas gave one last look at the motionless body on the ground and then scurried after them.

#

 

Chas counted the guards. There were two outside and at least two inside, though his glimpse into the room had been regretfully brief. The two in front of him were brutish looking males, each standing on either side of a peeling green door. The word “Office” hung on a small metal plaque in the center. Chas wore his shroud of invisibility and crouched about ten feet down the tunnel, not daring to get closer. The scent of blood hung thick in the air. He swallowed hard and tried not to think of whose blood it was. His reconnaissance finished Chas took, slow, silent steps back down the tunnel until he rejoined Lillith and Midnite. Chas dropped his shield and came forward.

“At least four, but maybe more. Two outside and two inside that I saw.”

“It won't be pretty but it's doable,” Midnite said. He knelt on the ground with his bag open in front of him. He was placing herbs along with shiny white stones into three small cloth bags. He tied them with yellow yarn and handed one to Chas and one to Lillith. “Keep them on you, for protection.”

Chas tucked his under the waistband of his pants so it lay flush against his skin. He checked the straps on his backpack and the clip of his Beretta. His sweaty palms slipped on the handle and he nearly dropped the gun on the floor.

“Steady there,” Midnite said, squeezing his shoulder.

Chas gave him an anemic smile. For the millionth time his mind wandered to John and how he was faring. He had tried several times to reach out with his senses and feel for John, hoping the depth of his feelings would grant him a way to reach Constantine, but he came up with nothing.

As a group they met each other's eyes and then clicked the flashlights off and began to advance down the tunnel. When they got closer, Chas picked up a low murmur of conversation between the guards and his skin crawled in anticipation. A sharp turn in the tunnel brought the guards into view and Chas lunged forward. A little white emergency light above the door lit the scene and Chas tossed the vial of holy water in his hands onto the guard closest to him. His pale skin cracked open and he screamed. Midnite and Lillith shoved past him to deal with the other guard who had frozen in shock for the moment. The guard Chas had just splashed with holy water, dove at him. Chas caught him in the eye with a bullet, his angry roar cut short in a burst of ash. Next to him Lillith’s whip made short work of the other guard but the door was already opening.

Four guards swarmed out at them and Chas swore under his breath. Midnite immediately leveled one with a blast from his shotgun. The others came at them undaunted and Lillith cried out as one slashed her left arm with strange looking blade. Chas had no time to worry about the others as a tiny viper of a demon rushed at him. She hit him hard in the abdomen with her knee and then kicked his gun out of his hands as he doubled over. Another blow to the back of the head had him sprawled on the ground, the sounds of the fight phasing in and out as Chas fought to keep himself from passing out. Then the air was forced out of his lungs as his attacker climbed up on his back. His head cleared and he pushed up on his hands and knees.

“You're feisty, but I'm faster.” She taunted from her perch on his back and there came the metallic ring of a switchblade being flicked open. Her hand grasped his wing and pulled it taught. Chas struggled, flailing around hoping to unseat her. A crack sounded right next to his ear and Chas froze. The demon on his back flattened herself and then rolled off. Lillith’s whip cracked again, but to no effect and the demon took her shot, crawling across the floor in a mad scramble to get away from them. Lillith gave chase and Midnite knelt next to Chas.

“Are you alright?”

Chas nodded. “I’m alright.”

Midnite helped him to his feet and by then Lillith had returned, her face set in hard lines.

“I lost her.”

“Then we’d better move quick. There’s no doubt where she’ll go,” Midnite said.

The demon had left the door open during their hasty exit and now Chas and the others hurried inside. The office was a standard square room made up of bare cement walls and floor, illuminated by lanterns placed in the corners. In the back left corner there was a large pipe coming out of the wall and leading down into the floor and it was here Angela sat chained.

“Angela," Chas gasped. Most of her clothes were gone, leaving her shivering in her bra and panties. A sticky swath of blood covered her chest and abdomen from a large gash on her forehead. Her eyes were wary, like she didn't recognize them. Had Asmodeus broken her mind? Chas took a small step forward. "Angie, it's Chas."

She nodded, her eyes still wide and frightened. "Can you get this off me, please." She wiggled around to give Chas access to where her wrists were chained to the pipe.

He went and knelt next to her. The chain had cut up her wrists, the skin under the metal left raw and bloody. He took one of her wrists in each hand.

"This will hurt." He warned her. She nodded again and he jerked swiftly, snapping the chain in the middle. The metal fell away and Angela let out a low moan, bringing her arms around to her chest.

"God that’s awful," she said, rubbing her arms together in a clumsy attempt to encourage blood back into the deprived flesh. Chas put his hands on her arms to help and without warning she fell into him. He stiffened and then brushed aside his awkwardness and held her close, murmuring soft words against her hair. She shook violently.

Lillith and Midnite had remained by the door, as neither of them knew Angela well enough to offer her much comfort. Midnite cleared his throat.

“Chas, we have to go.”

Chas tightened his jaw. Angela was obviously in shock and in need of help but first he had to get her out of here.

"Angela, are you okay? Can you walk?" He gently pushed her back, scanning her for major injuries. She was covered in blood but most of it had come from the wound on her head. The cut was deep but old, and had clotted into a dirty mass with her hair. There were numerous bruises and superficial cuts but Asmodeus had left her in fairly good condition.

"I'm okay," she said, but her eyes were wide, her face haunted and her teeth chattered together each time she shivered.

Chas wished he had a coat to offer her.

"I think I can walk, just help me up."

Chas gripped gently under her arms and pulled her up. She swayed a minute on her feet and then stood on her own. Midnite reached out to take her hand.

“Is John here?” she asked, looking back toward Chas.

"No–" A deafening roar cut Chas off before he could finish.

Angela dropped to her knees and covered her ears with her hands. The ground shook and Chas was afraid the ceiling was going to come down on top of them. The rage in the sound chilled Chas down to the marrow of his bones.

“He’s coming,” Lillith whispered, her voice small and tight with fear.

Midnite was the first to move, he set down his bag and grabbed Elliot’s journal from inside. “Chas I need your help. Lillith, get her to the back so she’s behind us.

Angela shook off Lillith’s help and stood on her own. “Does anyone have a weapon I can have?” When they all stared at her she straightened her shoulders. “I can help.”

Chas set down his own bag and dug out the rope John had given him, holding it out for her. “Take this, it’s been imbued with holy oil.”

Angela took it and gave him a small nod in return. Midnite had opened the journal to the drawing of the seal and taken out two vials of ink which had been made with holy water as the base.

“Shouldn’t we run?” Chas asked. It had never been part of the plan for them to go up against Asmodeus without John and Remigius.

“If we run he’ll overtake us easily. This is his kingdom, there is no part of this place he does not know. We have to make a stand, it’s our only chance,” Lillith said.

Midnite handed her his light and she illuminated their workspace. With the journal placed between them Chas and Midnite grabbed the bottles and went to work. Chas remained on high alert, glancing at the door every few seconds. Since Asmodeus’s roar had shaken them there had been silence, but he wasn't fooled. Any second now Asmodeus and a horde of his followers would come pouring through the door and they would be torn to shreds. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest, each beat repeating the name he could not allow himself to dwell on. John, John, John. Stop, he commanded himself, focus. He did his best to concentrate on the dark lines he drew. Mistakes would cost them everything.

With Chas and Midnite working together it took less than two minutes before the dark swirling seal was finished, it covered a large portion the floor in front of them. When the last lines had been connected a buzz of power filled the air, the ink of the seal sparkling onyx against the drab cement.

"Is this going to work?" Angela asked. She had rallied, her voice steadier now.

"Yes," Chas answered, sounding more confident than he felt.

“Get ready. Lillith and I will meet him first. Chas you stay next to the seal. Angela, I want you to stay behind the door, I don’t want him to see you when he comes in.” Midnite barked his commands and they all jumped to obey.

Chas picked up the journal and checked the seal again. It was perfect, an exact copy of Elliot’s but he could not shake the deep unease churning up his gut. He called upon his power and his wings flared out behind him, painting strange shadows on the cement walls.

"If you see an opportunity, don't hesitate. We have to get him inside the seal," Lillith said.

Angela squeezed behind the open door and crouched out of sight. A second later they all stiffened as a stomach clenching rush of lust swept through the room. Chas’s heart beat alarmingly fast and he pulled more power into himself, his light brightening the room. A heavy throb between his legs told him his cock was hard, unable to deny Asmodeus his power even if he hated it. One second the doorway was empty and the next Asmodues stood in it, his big body crowding the opening. Chas's eyes immediately fell to Asmodeus's bloody left hand and a red fog clouded his vision. Their eyes met and the perverse joy burning in Asmodeus’s hot orbs made him sick.

"I'm afraid John won't be joining us," Asmodeus said, waggling his bloody hand in front of them.

"It doesn't matter," Midnite's lie came out with bravado, "Without Angela your plans unravel and we've taken her where you won't ever find her again."

"I don't need to find her, she'll come back to me. Humans are so easily manipulated."

Asmodeus stepped into the room and Chas sucked in his breath. Darkness followed the demon king, drinking up the light Chas put off. Along with it came the unbearable urge to be touched. Against his will his gaze slid to Asmodeus's crotch and he frowned at the thick mess of fluid covering the material. A hint of sulfur crept into his nostrils and Chas rallied against his baser urges.

"You are never going to touch her or any other human again," Chas said.

Asmodeus sneered and opened his mouth to speak when Midnite caught him in the chest with a vial of holy water. The flesh over his ribs melted away and Asmodeus let out a howl that vibrated the entire room. The rush of sulfur this time was strong enough to make Chas gag.

Asmodeus lunged for Midnite, snapping his fangs in the houngan's face, but Lillith caught his arm with her whip. The whip burned his flesh but he remained intact, unlike the lesser demons. She grabbed the handle with both hands and tried to haul him towards the seal but it was obvious her strength was no match for his own. He continued to close in on Midnite and Chas fired a round into his side. It made an ashen crater but Asmodeus ignored the wound completely. Chas didn't know Angela had moved until Asmodeus grabbed for his throat. Smoke poured off of him and Angela circled around dragging on the rope to help Lillith force Asmodeus into the seal. Asmodeus screamed and reared back, yanking Angela off her feet and Chas rushed forward, snagging the rope and all together they pulled with everything they had. The rope cut deep enough to reveal the wet fibrous tissue underneath Asmodeus's pretty skin. Even with the three of them it took a huge effort, but at last Asmodeus's feet crossed the seal's threshold.

Immediately the seal's power activated. The ink began to glow, white light spreading over the tendrils and swirls. Chas let go of the rope and Angela and Lillith followed suit. Asmodeus flung the restraints off himself. He stood in the seal's center, his breath harsh, body smoking.

"You stupid fools," he snarled.

He looked at them with death in his eyes and Chas shrank back from such pure violence. Next to him Angela went white as a sheet and took a step back from the seal. To Chas's surprise, the seal held him, but it was not time to celebrate. Without Remigius they couldn't finish what had been started.

"We have to find John,” he said turning to Midnite and Lillith. “One of us will have to go look for him.”

"John is dead," Asmodeus laughed.

Chas clenched his fists to keep from lashing out and continued: “I think I should stay here, so it'll have to be one of you.” He could not explain it but some instinct deep inside told him to remain near the seal.

“I can't touch it,” Lillith reminded them.

“Then it looks like I will have to volunteer,” Midnite smirked.

“Take this with you then, it won't do me any good here,” Chas said holding out his gun for Midnite.

“Thank you my friend.”

Midnite put the pistol in the waistband of his pants and balanced his shotgun in the crook of his arm. He stopped at his bag and removed several more vials of holy water, stuffing them into the pockets of his voluminous white coat along with a strange-looking carved wooden idol.

“Lillith, you keep watch on the door in case any unwanted backup arrives. I will do my best to find John quickly.”

“Midnite, if John is... if what he said is true...”

“Trust me, I will take care of him,” Midnite answered a solemn look in his dark eyes.

Chas nodded and watched until Midnite disappeared out the door, then his gaze swung back to Asmodeus. Lillith walked over and peered in the hallway and then closed the door, propping herself against it.

Asmodeus looked like a ghoul, his burning eyes staring out of a burnt and blackened face. The clutch of desire still held Chas when he looked at Asmodeus, even with so much burned away he remained beautiful. His pale hair had been singed and stood in uneven spikes around his head. Asmodeus liked to be watched and he prowled around the perimeter of the seal like a sleek jungle cat.

“Like what you see?” he teased, toying with the thatch of pubic hair exposed by his open pants.

Chas ignored him turning to check on Angela. She had bent down to look at Elliot's journal.

“You okay?”

“I will be,” she said. “This seal is quite amazing. I wish Dr. Litchfield were still around so I–”

"You think you've won, don't you?"

The unnatural calmness of the words was the only warning Chas had before the ground beneath him heaved and he was thrown down on his hands and knees. Angela screamed and Lillith let out a vile stream of curses. Chas tried to find them, but when he looked up his eyes went wide.

Asmodeus's body bubbled, his skin stretching, morphing, filling out as a new structure took shape beneath it. There came a sickening wet rip as Asmodeus shed his disguise for his true form. Chas's mind struggled against the horror of it. A cold sweat sprung up along his spine as the body in front of him oozed and refit itself together. He'd long known the true form of powerful demons were chimera but he'd never seen one anywhere other than the drawings in the old grimoires. Now the beast loomed up in front of him, the seal almost unable to contain his patchwork girth.

A small murmuring came from behind him and Chas turned to find Angela hunched over on the ground, her hands clasped over the cross around her neck while her lips moved with words he couldn't make out. He whipped around and found Lillith laying prone on the floor, a look of slack ecstasy on her face.

“Eyes up here, boy,” a distorted, bestial voice commanded.

Chas shifted his gaze helplessly. Asmodeus's face peered down atop a serpentine neck, giant black horns protruding from his forehead, his burning eyes larger now, the pupils a thin slit. A wave of sensation knocked him flat on the ground, leaving him unable to move with it's power. A rush of warm fluid pulsed at Chas's groin and dimly he realized he was ejaculating. He managed to tip his head back up and stared at the monster in front of him, bathing in the lust pouring off it, desperate to submit. Chas forced his eyes shut and prayed.


	27. Struck Down, but Not Destroyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beaten and bruised, John, Chas, and the others must make their final stand against Asmodeus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys I have the next chapter ready to go. There is a warning for some gore in this chapter. I want to thank you all for sticking with me. Cheers!

Chapter 27: Struck Down, but Not Destroyed

 

 

 

At first John’s brain didn't register the knocks as separate from the pounding of his own pulse, but then there came the frantic whisper.

“John?”

He frowned and opened his eyes. He still lay with his face partially mashed into the mattress but he could make out the door. He wondered dimly if the whispers were a hallucination brought on by shock and blood loss. For some reason this struck him as hilarious. He gave a weak laugh that ended in a groan as his right side throbbed in protest.

“John, are you in there?”

The voice came again, and this time he was certain it was real. John grit his teeth and sucked in a big breath, which burned like hot knives.

“I'm here,” he called, the words coming out in a hoarse bark.

The door rattled against the frame and the wood gave a violent shudder followed by a savage curse. The voice was feminine and John recognized it, but in his current state he couldn't place who it belonged to. There were two more hits before the door crashed open and a thin, dark figure stood in the entryway.

John blinked rapidly, trying to get a clear view of the person standing before him. With a tentative step the figure entered the bubble of light given off by the lantern and John’s heart rate spiked.

Ezra glanced around the room and when her eyes found him she cried out in dismay. "Oh, John!"

Picking her steps carefully, Ezra crossed the litter of mattresses and blankets til she knelt at his side.

“Ezra?” John could not wrap his head around how she was crouching in front of him. “How are you here?”

She didn't answer him and instead gave a furtive glance behind her before reaching for him.

“We have to get you out of here right now.”

Before John could speak she rolled him onto his back. He gave an agonized sob as both his chest and arm protested the rough treatment.

She took in the damage, her gaze sweeping over his body and then she gave what might have passed for a reassuring smile if it weren't for the fear in her eyes.

An inkling of alarm seized John even through the numbness of shock and he narrowed his eyes at her, not trusting her offer of help.

“What are you doing here? Who told you where to find this place? Was it Midnite?”

She shook her head. “Papa doesn't know I'm here.” Again came the smile that didn't touch her eyes. “I’m sorry John, I was weak and I couldn't resist him.”

In an instant Constantine reached his good hand underneath his waistband and grabbed the handle of Remigius, baring the blade in a movement that left him panting in pain. Ezra shrank back with a little gasp.

“You're with Asmodeus,” he said, and it wasn't a question.

“Never because I wanted to be and now something's happened. I can't feel his pull anymore, none of us can. Somehow he's been cut off.” She stepped toward him again, pleading. “Let me help you.”

“You still didn't explain how you found me. How did you even know I was down here?”

She looked away from him, holding one arm protectively in front of herself. The stark guilt in every line of her body made the world tilt beneath John in a sickening lurch.

“Because I helped him lure you down here.”

“What do you mean?” John demanded.

“It was all his plan: he's been herding you, letting you think you were in control while he pulled the strings. And I helped him. The journal you found, the one I helped lead you to, was planted there by Balthazar after Asmodeus had tampered with it.”

“God damn you!” John growled and if he'd had the power to move he would have stabbed her without another thought. As it was, he lay there staring daggers at her while a whirlwind of anxiety threatened to rip him apart inside. He had led them all right into Asmodeus’s trap. The knowledge was like a sliver of ice in his heart but he couldn’t let it freeze him. He had to find a way to get to his friends.

“I'm sorry. Lucifer forgive me, I know it doesn't mean much after what I’ve done but it’s the truth. I want to help you John.”

John closed his eyes, wishing he were stone so the earnest shame of her confession wouldn’t be able to soften him. Still he had no other choice if he wanted to get to Chas and the others. Slowly he slid Remigius back into its sheath and fixed Ezra with a belligerent stare.

“One wrong move and I’ll make sure you go down with me,” he warned.

Ezra nodded, her eyes wet with unshed tears. She approached him again and grabbed his wounded arm. John flinched away.

"It's broken."

She bit her lip. "John, I think I need to get you to the hospital.”

“No.” His voice was rough. “My friends are down here and as long as I’m still breathing I won’t abandon them to Asmodeus. If you want to help me, then help me find them.”

“Okay.”

Ezra got to work and with extreme care she took John’s good arm and helped lever him into a sitting position. He bit his lip to keep the shouts of pain from bursting out of him and when it was over he was soaked with sweat and blood, and dizzy. Then she grabbed the cleanest-looking sheet nearby and tore it right down the middle.

“We need to get that shirt off,” she said.

John took several deep breaths and then began to divest himself of his shirt. He did the best he could, but Ezra had to help him with the last bit. When the break was exposed and she saw the ridge of bone poking out Ezra’s face went ashen gray.

“I don’t have anything to splint that and if I try to set it you’ll lose consciousness, so we'll use this as a sling for now,” she said, holding up one big section of the sheet.

John nodded, surprised by how knowledgeable she was about treating wounds of this kind.

She leaned over him and looped the fabric around his arm gently before tying the ends together behind his neck. Then she grabbed the other long section and began wrapping it tightly around his chest.

“This will put pressure on and slow the bleeding until we can get you to a hospital.”

The bandage made it hard to breathe and the pressure was uncomfortable but John grit his teeth against it. Once she had the knot tied, he’d managed to convince himself he could handle what was coming next.

“You're ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

She turned so they were facing the same direction and scooted close so John could sling his good arm across her shoulders. With the first painful lurch John got his feet planted on the mattress and together they started to rise up. By the time John was standing he was shaking, on the edge of losing consciousness again, and already a fresh gush of blood had soaked through his bandage. With slow, tentative steps they started for the door and John wanted to scream at his own helplessness.

“Do you have any idea where Asmodeus has Angela?” he asked.

Ezra shook her head. “He didn’t want any of his followers getting ideas about her, only those he picked to guard her know where she’s being kept.”

They finally reached the doorway and John stopped for a minute to catch his breath.

“What happened the other followers? You said Asmodeus’s influence had been cut off from all of them.”

“He’d warned us something like this might happen. He commanded all of us to stay put on the platform he uses as his throne room, but the ranks have already started to fracture. Still, there is a large gathering of them out there so we will have to be careful. Keep your head down, don’t look any of them in the eye, and let me do the talking.”

John nodded. They stepped out onto the platform and the agitation was palpable. Humans and demons shouted over each other and here and there small fights had broken out. Ezra steered them toward the back of the room and kept near the wall. John tried to listen to the conversations, hoping to pick up any clue to where his friends were, but there was too much noise to make much sense of it. Having his focus split made him clumsy and after stumbling for a third time he went back to concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

Next to him Ezra was rigid, almost brittle in her alertness as she lead them away. With so much chaos they slipped easily into the background but every now and then Ezra would jerk and hurry her steps if someone came too close.

“What have you got there?”

They were closing in on the far side of the platform when a deep male voice struck at them from the darkness.

Ezra didn’t miss a beat. “One of the thralls got attacked and I’m moving him to the tunnel so he doesn’t stink up the place when he dies.”

“Why don’t you give him here, it’s been ages since I had any fun.”

Ezra hesitated a second too long and the other demon moved in, sensing weakness.

“He won’t be much fun, he’s more than half dead already, but if you’ve got something in mind I’d be up for some fun as soon as I dispose of him.”

The male stepped close behind John, audibly sniffing his hair.

He pulled back with a hiss. “He smells like the Master.”

Ezra started walking again and John stumbled at the unexpected motion, letting out a piteous whine as his wound throbbed.

“I found him sprawled out the door of the Master's chamber. Must have had himself a treat before he left,” Ezra shot over her shoulder, still doggedly walking away.

“You shouldn't take what isn't yours,” the male growled from behind them.

Ezra moved faster, practically dragging John along toward the far end of the platform and the freedom of the open tunnel. He tried in vain to catch his breath as splinters of pain cracked his chest apart.

A tinkle of broken glass followed by a sharp pop came from behind them. Then the heavy slap of a body hitting the floor. A wave of sulfur wafted up from behind them.

“Don't turn around,” Ezra whispered furiously in John's ear.

“Ezra, stop!”

They both went rigid and Ezra spun them around until they came face to face with Midnite. He stood partially in shadow, in one hand a small canvas bag and in the other a handgun, the barrel of which leaked a small tendril of smoke.

“Thank God it's you,” John gasped.

Next to him Ezra remained silent, but her body trembled so badly John worried she would drop him. Looking over he saw there were tears running down her cheeks.

“Papa, I...”

Midnite cut her off with a curt slice of his hand. Ezra fell silent and looked away.

Midnite bent down and set a small wooden idol on the ground and John's ears popped as the air pressure changed in a rush, the noise of the platform dimmed somehow.

“You’re less dead than I expected,” he said, sliding the gun back inside his long white coat.

“Looks can be deceiving,” John grunted.

“The grave will have to wait a little longer. Chas has Asmodeus trapped in the seal and we need your help to finish the job.”

John’s already white face paled to a sickly wax color. "The seal can’t be trusted. Asmodeus tampered with the journal and then planted it for me to find."

Midnite stiffened. “We have to go at once."

Ezra started to move toward him but John shook his head.

"There's no time. The dagger's in a sheath under my pants, take it and go, I'll only slow you down."

"John, I will not leave you hurt and defenseless."

"I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine because you're coming with me," Midnite stated, and when John opened his mouth to argue: “You're wasting time. Besides Chas would never forgive me if I left you.”

There was steel in the set of Midnite's shoulders and John gave in. Ezra came forward and Midnite reached around John's waist, careful not to jostle his broken arm. All together they began to limp along. John looked over at the grim frown distorting Midnite's face and a question danced on the tip of his tongue. A question he was terrified to ask.

“The seal was holding when I left him,” Midnite said, answering John's unspoken plea.

John nodded, though Midnite's answer did nothing to alleviate his fears. Walk, he commanded himself, repeating it over and over again. Each step will bring you closer to him.

 

 

#

 

 

Cold fingers curled around his wrist and Chas's eyes shot open. Angela had crawled over to him, one hand still clutching her crucifix while the other held tight to him. The touch forced an uncomfortable awareness of her body and state of undress on him. She made no move to let go of him but the terror on her face was hard to look at.

“Pray with me,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper.

He nodded and in the same soft tone she began a Hail Mary, the words falling off her lips in a familiar rhythm and soon Chas didn't even have to think, the prayer came to him like the air he breathed. The effect of her mind was subtle. At first Chas attributed his rebounding equilibrium to their shared prayer but then it became stronger and stronger till her calming influence settled over his consciousness and suddenly he was no longer alone inside his head.

“ _Get ready Chas.”_ Her voice came like a clarion call inside his head.

Asmodeus crouched till their faces were inches apart. Chas's hips moved against his will, thrusting against the ground. Asmodeus laughed and scorching hot breath shivered over Chas's face. As they stared each other down, the air began to vibrate and then the ground gave an immense groan. The crack in the cement floor started about a foot away from where Chas lay, snaking forward in little fits, headed straight for the edge of the seal. On instinct Chas shoved both hands forward, brushing his fingertips over the ink. The holy water reacted to his power, causing the ribbons of white light to burn brighter. Chas poured his power into the seal and his fingers burned with the heat of it. The crack advanced till it was less than an inch away and then stopped.

Angela's voice came again from within. “ _Stay strong.”_

"Pitiful angel. We both know you can't hold out against me," Asmodeus said, battering Chas with his overwhelming presence. His leonine tails lashed back and forth with impatience. “John is already dead, your allies are crumbling, and when your strength fails the seal will break open and I will devour you.”

Doubt pierced Chas like an icicle to the heart and the dam holding back his doubts let go, spilling over him in a crushing tide. John was dead, Midnite would be overwhelmed by the swarm in the tunnels, and Asmodeus had dominated Lillith. Which left him and Angela to hold the line against one of the most powerful demons in Hell, with only their meager combined powers and a swiftly failing seal to help them. He would fail and their end would be neither swift nor painless. The thoughts piled on him, one after another till he was certain he would never get out from under their weight. Another crack sounded to his right and Chas watched a second fissure open in the floor. Asmodeus remained in front of him, the seal keeping the demon from closing the scant distance between them. He swiped his forked tongue over his lips in an obscene gesture.

“ _You can do this Chas, we can hold on.”_

“I can't,” Chas gasped aloud. His body was burning with lust, already it was a struggle not to roll over and beg to be fucked. The seal gobbled up every scrap of energy he put into it and he was weakening. All Asmodeus had to do was batter him till he ran dry. Chas stared into the demon's depraved, glowing eyes and his will began to falter.

"All of this because Daddy didn't love you?" Lillith snapped.

Chas startled and whipped his head up. Lillith had pulled herself into a sitting position, her face drawn into a sharp scowl. A trickle of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth.

Asmodeus swung his head around with a menacing growl and bared his teeth at her. “Silence Harlot. What would you know of my father?"

She smiled showing blood coated teeth. “You forget I've been around since the beginning. Who do you think comforted Agrat when David sent her packing? He knew the evil he'd created. He wanted to erase your existence.”

Asmodeus's bulk trembled in rage. “I told you to shut your mouth.”

With his attention on Lillith, the crushing domination of Asmodeus's power lessened and Chas managed to take a breath. Angela scooted closer to him, laying her head against him. Again a sick desire to take her slipped in through the cracks of his mind. Chas flushed, and tried to get away, knowing she could see his shameful thoughts.

“Shh, it's okay,” she said. “It's not your fault.” Again she moved closer, and this time Chas let her. “You can’t give up. John is coming.”

Chas made a wounded sound and shook his head. Angela tightened her grip on his hand.

“Believe, Chas. You have to believe in John. If you lose faith Asmodeus has already won. I’m here, she’s here, you don’t have to face him alone.”

A thick lump formed in Chas’s throat and his eyes burned.

Lillith continued taunting Asmodeus. “It must eat you up to to have been cast aside by a human. No matter how powerful you become, or how many humans you crush beneath your heel, you'll never be able to erase Daddy’s rejection."

“I’m going to rip out your tongue so you can never speak again,” Asmodeus roared, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth.

Chas had to make a decision. Either he put everything he had into holding the seal in the hope help would arrive before his strength failed or he let the seal break and took his chances against Asmodeus. Long ago when the war between Heaven and Hell still raged, angels had been fearsome warriors, but since the truce they had become peace keepers and diplomats. Chas had never known the war. He had no memories of battle to fall back on and as he stared at the monster before him he knew if he fought, he would fail.

“Then again, Mommy wasn't much better was she? Agrat could barely stand the sight of you. You reminded her of him.”

Asmodeus slammed both of his clawed fists against the floor, his eyes wild as he spewed obscenities and threats at Lillith. She sat undaunted by his onslaught and Chas marveled at her daring. She whipped barb after barb off her tongue, each one sticking like a thorn, enraging Asmodeus further. But furious as Asmodeus was, with his focus on Lillith, the power driving the cracks had waned. The fog of lust had also lifted some in the face of his anger and Chas had the idea that Lillith was baiting him on purpose. As if to confirm this, Lillith's green eyes flicked to Chas and held his gaze. The room swirled sickeningly and Chas swallowed past the urge to vomit. He stabilized after a brief moment, and became aware of both Angela and Lillith inside his head. The unnerving connection was blessedly brief and then Lillith was gone.

“ _You know what you have to do,”_ Angela said, and across the room Lillith smiled.

Chas grit his teeth and braced himself. “It's rather sad actually, no matter how powerful you become you can’t make the humans love you. Just like you couldn’t make your parents love you.”

Asmodeus sucked in a quick breath and rounded on Chas. He lifted his forelimbs off the ground and loomed up to his full height.

“What makes you think I wanted their love? All the love you had to give didn’t save your precious Constantine. The last thing he did in this life was to get down on his knees and suck my cock. Love is worthless, power is all that matters.”

The arrow struck deep and Chas jerked in response. Asmodeus sensed blood and peeled back his lips in a murderous grin.

“Pitiful little angel, John would have forsaken you anyway. The kind of love you're looking for isn't something humans are capable of."

Chas bridled and Angela squeezed his hand, a small check against losing his temper. Keep him talking, Chas reminded himself, but Asmodeus had touched a deeply buried wound. The truth was he wasn't sure if John was in love with him. There was no denying the deep connection between them, or the chemistry when their bodies came together, but Chas wanted more. Angela said John loved him but when Chas had needed it most John had been unable to say the words. Hot tears joined the sweat on his face and Chas savaged himself for crying. He'd spent every moment leading up to this fight justifying the reasons for his faith in John, now he had to live it. He would hold the seal till the last drop of power left his body.

"Humans are capable of more than you know. King David's ability to see you as an anathema proves that." Chas's voice cracked under the strain.

"You don't get it, do you. You angels like to dress them up, pretend they're good and egalitarian but they're not. They're barbarians, and the only thing they will ever care about in their meaningless little lives is themselves."

"You're wrong about them. Love is the most transformative force in their lives. It changed me. It's still changing me. Your pain comes from being formed without the capacity for love. Even if we fail here you won't win. For each one who falls to you there will be ten who stand against you. Your army will be crushed, as so many who have gone before you in the vain effort to make hatred into virtue."

“Enough of this, your protestations bore me,” Asmodeus said, blowing a gust of acrid smoke from his nose. He came back to all fours then and with a deafening bellow four new fissures opened at once. Asmodeus's body began drinking up the light from the seal, the dark flesh gorging itself.

Chas gasped as red-hot daggers of lust pierced his skin. The fire spread inside him and next to him Angela cried out, her steadying presence severed abruptly. His cock pulsed, on the edge of release, and Chas whimpered. Above them Asmodeus laughed as he bore down harder and Chas shut his eyes, desperate for any kind of distance from the demon. He retreated to the light within himself and there he sheltered while he funneled his power into the seal. The cracks advanced inch by inch until they were licking at the edges of the ink. Chas pushed harder, but already the well was running dry and he was getting weaker. The ground beneath him trembled and heaved, ready to split open at any moment. Hot, wet breath tickled the back of Chas's neck as the demon sat poised to make his move.

“Chas!” A voice called his name and Chas's heart throbbed wildly against his ribs. It was John, of that he was certain but he clamped down on the tide of emotions rising within him. They weren't finished yet.

Asmodeus let out a scream of impotent rage.

Chas couldn't move or he would lose the seal so he called out: “I can't hold this much longer.”

He risked opening his eyes and almost lost his hold. John stood sandwiched between Midnite and a female demon, his arm in a sling, and a bloody bandage wrapped around his chest. His skin was pale, almost bloodless, but when their eyes met he smiled.

Asmodeus swung his bulk around and fixed John with a loathsome stare.

“You're supposed to be dead.” His orange eyes flicked to the female demon and she flinched away. “But I see there are traitors everywhere today.”

John cocked his mouth in a smile. “That's because it's my lucky day. I'm going to enjoy sending you back to Hell.”

“You can't destroy me. I'll find another way.”

"And I'll be right here waiting when you do." John took a wobbly step and extricated himself from his helpers. He drew Remigius in a reverent motion and then with a surprising rush of strength stabbed the dagger into the hulking mass of flesh, shoving until the entire blade was buried in the demon. Steaming hot fluid sprayed from the wound and John had to scramble back into Midnite's waiting arms. The blade shivered and heated, sending stream of light out into the room. Asmodeus screamed in pain, his body thrashing for a moment before it shattered. An explosion of ash filled the room and Chas covered his face.

When he looked up a second later a giant scorch mark and the smell of sulfur were all that remained of Asmodeus. Constantine leaned against Midnite in the fall of ash, a fresh gush of blood leaking down his thighs and he was the most beautiful thing Chas had ever laid eyes on. He had to get to him. He got upright on rubbery legs and practically ran across the room to John. He stopped before he reached him, his gaze falling to the bloody bandage again.

"He told me you were dead," Chas said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah, well I'm hard to kill."

Chas nodded and let out a shattered breath.

"Hey, look at me. Are you okay?" John reached his uninjured arm out and brushed his fingertips against Chas's hair. For some reason this gentle touch almost reduced Chas to tears.

“I'm okay,” Chas said, but when he looked up there was a pained expression on John's face. He took back his hand and placed it on his chest. John swayed and Chas made a move to grab him. Together, he and Midnite lowered Constantine to the floor. John lay there making a wet sound, like he was gulping water each time he tried to take a breath.

“John!” Chas shouted his name in panic but Constantine didn't even look at him. The strange slurping sound continued and Chas grabbed John's face and tilted his head back to open his airway.

“Move.”Angela came up behind him and she knelt down, next to John, leaning her ear over his mouth.

"What's happening?" Chas cried.

John was turning blue, his mouth open in a desperate bid for air. Angela placed her mouth over John's and blew in air. Then she pulled back and listened again.

"I think his lung has collapsed. We have to get him to a hospital now."

Only moments before Chas's power had been completely drained, but with these words the light filled him once more, pouring through his skin. He gently took John in his arms and stood. He looked at the others but Angela pushed him towards the door.

"Go. We'll be fine."

Chas turned and fled. He burst out into the maintenance tunnel, racing through the darkness. As soon as he found a door he burst out into the main tunnel and his wings lifted him off the ground. He pushed himself hard, his wings scraping against the cement ceiling. John was still gasping for breath, each gurgling inhale ripping Chas apart. In a matter of seconds he was on the stairs, racing upwards, heedless of anything but getting John help.

He dashed through the portal, then out into the night air. He went airborne again. The city rushed past below him. They weren't far from Ravenscar. He would get John there in time, he promised himself. John's fingertips brushed against his chin and he glanced down, horrified to see a trail of bloody saliva leaking from his mouth.

 

#

 

John was losing little chunks of time, his conscious moments like random scenes cut from a film strip. He could see the stars shining behind Chas and they looked brighter than he ever remembered them being before. The pain was gone, all he felt now was a biting bone-deep cold. He could see the naked terror on Chas's face and he wondered if this was going to be the last time they saw each other in this life. It was horrible of him to say it now but it might be his last chance.

"I...I love–" His confession was cut short with a wet gurgle and everything went black again.

 


	28. Made Perfect in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas rushes a badly wounded Constantine to the hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys we are almost there, this is the second to last chapter. I have been hard at work getting the ending just right and I am very excited with the developments in this chapter. Anyways no specific warning but lots and lots of feelings ;) Enjoy!

Chapter 28: Made Perfect in Love

 

 

 

Chas hit the pavement with enough force to crack the cement landing beneath his feet. There was a small group of EMTs chatting near the doorway, who all stared in open-mouthed shock as Chas raced into the emergency entrance of Ravenscar.

"I need some help," he shouted, his entire body trembling like crazy. John hadn’t woken up after the last time he’d lost consciousness. The hospital staff leaped into action and several nurses came out of the triage area, wheeling a gurney over to him. He laid John on the cot, the stillness of Constantine's body making him want to scream. The people in the waiting room gaped at the scene.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" a small middle-aged man with black hair and kind eyes asked. But Chas could only stare helplessly at John.

A doctor burst through the triage door. Her short blonde hair gave her face a hawkish look. She took one look at John and then picked up a walkie talkie strapped to her belt. “Tell Dr. Escavaria to prep OR two.”

One of the nurses took scissors to the bandages on John's body, revealing his punctures and Chas winced. What had John been thinking facing Asmodeus with wounds this severe? Another nurse undid the sling on his arm revealing the broken bone.

“I’ve got a compound fracture over here,” she said.

“Sir?” the nurse next to Chas prompted again, stepping into his line of sight.

"He was attacked, but I didn't see it happen. He was having trouble breathing. I think his lung collapsed." Chas reached out, sliding his fingers over the back of John's clammy hand.

“What is his name?”

“John Constantine. He is a patient of Dr. Archer.”

"He isn't breathing, and he's in v-fib," the doctor shouted, her stethoscope against John’s bloody skin. She climbed up on top of Constantine and placed her hands over his sternum. All the blood drained out of Chas's face. The doctor started chest compressions and they began to wheel John away in a flurry of shouted orders. Chas's heart gave a painful shudder and he started forward. They couldn’t possibly think of taking John away from him. The nurse stopped him, grabbing his arm.

"I'm sorry sir, you can't go back there." He looked Chas over before adding, “Why don’t you come with me to an exam room and we'll get you cleaned up.” Chas looked down at himself. His white clothes were stained with John’s blood and he nodded.The nurse led him through the triage doors and down a long, featureless hallway. Chas followed like a zombie behind him. The nurse opened a gray door into an empty exam room.

“Take a seat right there,” the nurse said, indicating the bed in the room. He closed the door behind them and went to the large blanket warmer in the left corner and took out a thick off-white blanket.

“My name is Tom. Here take this, it’ll help with the shaking.”

Chas took the blanket and threw it over his shoulders, but he didn't think it would do much. With John out of his sight he was swirling down the drain of panic, his mind careening from one horrid scenario to the next.

“We're going to take care of you. Now, are you hurt anywhere?” Tom asked in a gentle voice.

His chest was caving in on itself but Chas shook his head. “Where did they take him? The doctor said he wasn’t breathing. Is he going to be okay? ”

“The doctors and nurses are doing everything they can for him,” Tom said. He looked down at Chas's filthy clothes and wrinkled his nose. “Here, I'll get you a pair of scrubs so you can get out of those clothes. Then there are some questions I need to ask you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tom disappeared for several minutes, during which Chas worried he might go out of his mind sitting alone in this room with nothing to distract him from the pain. Then he came back and handed Chas a pair of hospital green scrubs wrapped in plastic. Chas thanked him and Tom went back out to give Chas some privacy while he changed. He pawed clumsily at the package until it tore open. Chas stripped quickly and re-dressed, his movements stiff and mechanical. He was tying the drawstring at his waist when a knock came at the door.

“Come in.”

Tom came back around the door, a cup of water in his hand and a clipboard tucked under his arm.

“Let’s start at the beginning. Can you tell me your name?”

“Chas Kramer,” he said, the consequences lost to him in his current state.

“Okay Chas, you said the name of the man you brought in was John Constantine is that right?”

“Yes.”

Tom nodded scribbling some notes on the clipboard in front of him.

“Were you with John tonight?

“Yes.”

“But you didn't see the attack happen?”

“No.”

“Was John conscious when you found him.”

“Yes. I didn't know how bad he was hurt.” Chas's voice shook.

“It's okay,” Tom soothed. “Now what is your relationship to Mr. Constantine?”

For some reason the question brought hot tears spilling down Chas’s cheeks. He scrubbed his hand furiously over his face but he couldn't stop them. He leaped up, startling Tom, his hands digging into his hair.

“I... I don’t know. I’m in love with him,” Chas said in a broken whisper. The memory of the blood leaking from John's mouth as he'd flown here lashed him harder than any whip. Then came the words, the ones he waited so long to hear, only now they were like acid. Chas bit the inside of his cheek and tried to pull himself together.

“It's okay. We can do the rest later,” Tom said, laying his hand on top of Chas's clenched fist.

He was nice enough to give Chas a few minutes to calm down. When he could breathe without his chest hitching he spoke again.

“When can I see him?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say exactly when. It all depends on how he does in surgery.”

“Can you at least tell me how he’s doing?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry but without his permission, I can’t release information about his condition to anyone but his emergency contact.” He flipped through the papers on his clipboard. “Angela Dodson.”

Chas tightened his jaw against a wave of nausea. As far as they were concerned he was nothing to John. A static-like buzz filled his ears and he sat back down, numbness creeping up from his feet.

“Is that alright, Mr Kramer?”

Chas realized Tom had been talking to him and he hadn’t heard a word.

“I'm sorry?”

“Since you're not injured I'm going to have to take you back to the waiting room. There is a phone there in case there's anyone you need to call.”

Chas managed a nod.

After another short walk he was back in the waiting room, seated in a chair, his bloody clothes in a plastic bag next to his feet. The stares of the people there were abrasive at first, Chas's skin practically prickling with each less than surreptitious gaze but it faded eventually. He should try and contact the others, he told himself, they would want to know what was happening. But even this duty couldn't rouse him, he remained frozen in his strange inertia. All he could do was wait.

Chas couldn't say how long he had been sitting there before his friends began to show up, only that the first to arrive at his side was Uriel. He had no idea how the elder had known where to find him or how desperately Chas had needed his comfort. Uriel strode in silently and took the seat next to Chas. His icy eyes swirled with a paternal mixture of love and disappointment but all he did was take Chas's hand in his own and pull it against his chest. They sat there together for a long time.

 

#

Constantine’s awakening came on slow, like rising from deep under water. His limbs were heavy and his mind awash in the fog of the drugs he'd been given. He lay still, his senses slowly coming back into focus. The heart rate monitor beeped steadily and oxygen hissed in a cold stream from the cannula on his nose. The acidic bite of disinfectant wafted from the bandage wound tight around his upper torso. They’d put a plaster cast on his broken arm and he tried to wiggle his fingers but it was a herculean task.

John had a swampy memory of waking briefly in the recovery room. A nurse with a sweet smile had talked to him but the warm soup of narcotics had erased her words. The soft, comforting tones of her voice remained though. How long have I been out of it, he wondered. Constantine tried to open his eyes, they were dry and gritty, the eyelids slow to peel apart. He parted them a sliver before slamming them shut against the bright light in the room. He turned his head away with a soft grunt. Soft footsteps sounded off to his right, as someone walked past the bed.

“I turned the lights down if you want to open your eyes,” Angela said, her voice tired.

He kept his eyes shut until she approached the bed, her fingers brushing over his forehead. Everything started out fuzzy, the colors bleeding together in a disorienting way. Then the room began to solidify and John focused on Angela's face. She had a large bruise around a line of sutures on her forehead and heavy, dark smudges under her eyes. There was a drawn look to her skin but in her eyes there was relief.

“Good to see you again.” His lips were chapped and cracked and his voice like the croak of an old frog. He tried to move his good arm to take her hand but he only managed to flutter weakly. She grabbed his hand, her grip tight.

“For a while there I was wondering if I _was_ going to see you again. Do me a favor John, don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I’m sorry Angie.” He tried to moisten his lips but his tongue had been replaced with cotton. Angela smiled, picking up the small paper cup from his tray table and bending the straw down to his mouth. He'd sucked in barely a mouthful before she pulled it away.

“You can have just enough to wet your mouth. Doctor’s orders.”

He grimaced, intuition telling him it was a phrase he would come to loath during his recovery.

John noticed the careful quality of her movements. "Are you okay?"

"I'm going to be. After Chas took off with you, Midnite, Lillith and I went back out into the tunnels. The demons had all fled but the humans Asmodeus had called were still there. I don't know how to explain it but they had no memory of any of it. It was like they'd been sleepwalking.”

John nodded. Memory loss was common among victims of demonic possession. Those people would go back to their lives with no memory of the dark things they had done and seen down in those tunnels.

Angela cleared her throat. “I called the station to let them know I was okay and they sent some officers to help with the victims and search the tunnels. They didn't find much, of course. Weiss is furious with me. I gave him a description of Asmodeus as the man who kidnapped me but I think he knows he isn't going to find him.” A little smile spread over her lips. “He told me you said a demon had taken me and he thinks you've brainwashed me somehow. You're still in trouble for breaking into a crime scene and for using the riot as a distraction to escape but I think I can convince them to go easy on you, since no charges had been filed."

"You probably broke Weiss's heart when you wouldn't implicate me. I don't think I've seen him happier than when he had me in cuffs."

Angela laughed. She hadn't spoken of what happened while she was held captive and John let it be. She would tell him when she was ready.

“Where is Chas? Is he okay?” Constantine gripped her hand with more force and tried in vain to sit up. He had to see Chas, he couldn't rest until he did.

Angela turnedand pointed to a figure curled beneath a blanket on the pullout bed in his room. John recognized the mop top of soft brown hair peeking out.

“He hasn't left since he brought you here. I'm still your emergency contact so they called me and I made sure to bring him up as soon as they said we could see you. He's a mess over you John. The only way I could get him to rest was if I promised to sit with you.”

A lump formed in the back of John's throat. The urge to go to Chas and take him in his arms, was overwhelming, so strong John would have given anything to be able to soothe away his fears. He looked up and a deep furrow had formed between Angela's brows.

“Angie?"

“I guess this is two I owe you now,” she said, flashing him a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.There was guilt in her words and it was as familiar to him as his own face.

"You don't owe me anything. I–"

"You almost died," she said, raising her voice.

They were interrupted by a soft noise behind them, like a gasp smothered by a pillow. They both fell silent. Chas thrust the blankets off and sat up, gripping the edge of the cot hard enough to make the leather creak. John's breath caught and he waited for Chas to look at him but the angel stared at the ground, the muscles of his jaw working. Chas trembled, his whole body hunched like he was waiting for someone to strike him.

“I’m going to head out,” Angela said, turning back to John. She leaned down, brushing her lips against his temple before she whispered in his ear. “Let him in, John. Don't make the same mistake twice.”

She gave his fingers one last reassuring squeeze before leaving. John turned back to Chas, who looked like a slight breeze would crumble him. Chas's brow wrinkled but his eyes remained stubbornly on the floor. He opened his mouth and John thought he would speak but instead he gave a broken sob and tears poured from his eyes.

“Chas,” John gaped in helplessness, his own eyes burned with tears in response.

Even if Chas had wanted to answer he couldn't, not with his body purging everything he'd held inside in a great wet gush. John's chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with his wound. Chas had been so strong for him.

“Come here,” John's request was ragged.

Chas flinched in response but stubbornly stayed where he was.

John cursed under his breath. “Chas please, I can’t come to you.”

Chas stood and swiped his hand over his face but it was pointless when his eyes continued to leak. He inched closer until he stood near John’s bedside. Then he stopped and wrapped his arms around himself.

John sighed. “You're going to have to look at me eventually.”

Chas looked up then and John's throat clenched in response. He was so lovely, strong despite his pain, and there in his eyes was the love John had gotten used to seeing. Constantine smiled and beckoned Chas forward with his hand. Chas looked away again, making it obvious he come as close as he intended to. John pulled a face and reached out, straining until he brushed his hand against Chas’s arm. Chas jerked back, a stricken look on his face.

“Don’t. You’re hurt,” he said through clenched teeth.

Constantine could imagine how he must look, laying in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of his nose, chest, and arms. His skin was still pale from blood loss despite the transfusion he'd received. The bandages covering his wounds made it obvious how gravely he'd been hurt. Chas had shied away from his touch like he was made of glass but John was not going to let anything stand between them.

“I’m fine,” John admonished. “I'm not going to break. Let me touch you.”

"But you did break!" Chas said, his voice filled with pain. His face twisted and he sucked in a deep breath. "I let you go down there alone. I let that animal put his hands on you. I let him break you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

John shook his head, ignoring the nausea the motion brought. The heart rate monitor registered his stress, giving a warning beep. Chas falling apart was more painful than being stabbed, the narcotics unable to take the edge off his heart breaking.

“Look at me, Chas. None of this was your fault. You saved me, you saved all of us. Do you think I didn't feel the same way when lost you? We can't keep the people we love safe just because we love them. Sometimes bad things are going to happen.”

“I think I understand more now how you must have felt when I died. It was awful. My own death was so fleeting for me, over before I knew it, but this was relentless.”

“Take my hand, please.”

Chas acquiesced, sliding his fingers over John's hand. The warmth of his skin against John's own, released some of the pressure inside him. John smiled.

"See? I'm still here. I know I look awful right now but I promise you I'm staying right here."

"I love you, John." Chas flushed as the words tumbled from his lips.

John ran his thumb over the back of Chas's hand. "I know you do, Chas.” He licked his lips. “I love you too."

The words were easier to say than he'd ever imagined. It was natural, his love for Chas so much a part of him it was hard to remember what it was like before the angel had claimed his heart. They had lost each other and found each other and there was no way he was letting Chas get away from him again.

John needed another sip of water before he could continue. He motioned to the cup and Chas held the straw up to his lips. He took a long swallow. "You were right when you called me a coward. I've hurt a lot of people Chas and I was afraid loving you would mean hurting you. But I treated you like a child and you're not, you're a man. So here it is. I love you and I want us to be together but I'm scared. I'm scared because I don't know how to keep you out and there are a lot of things inside me that aren't pretty. I'm not good with relationships and I don't think it will be easy. We'll have to fight for each other Chas.”

The vulnerability of his confession made it hard for John to look directly at Chas, but a small flutter caught his attention. Chas's wings had appeared and now the feathers settled together with a sound like a lover's sigh. He chanced a glance up and was rewarded with Chas's luminous smile.

“What do you want, Chas?" John whispered.

Chas bent down, taking great care not to jostle John, and pressed his damp, salty lips against John's in a chaste kiss. "I want you, and everything you come with. Even the ugly parts."

They kissed again briefly before Chas pulled away. John wanted to argue for more but already the exhaustion’s tentacles had wrapped around him and were dragging him down. He blinked to try and stop his eyelids from drooping and Chas laughed at him.

“Poor baby, you need to rest.” He let go of John's hand to turn and grab the chair Angela had been sitting in and pulled it up right next to the edge of the bed.

“You don't have to. Angie said you've been here the whole time. Go home, take a shower, get something to eat. I'll be fine.” John grabbed the call button. “I have room service if I get needy.”

Chas was having none of it though. “Shut up and go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up.”

John let it be and closed his eyes. Chas took his hand again, and he had to admit it was easier to relax when Chas was touching him.


	29. The Beginning and The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas and John begin their life together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is everyone, the last chapter, and just in time for Christmas! It has been a long and crazy ride but I am glad for everyone who stuck with me. I hope to have brought you some enjoyment with this story of mine and if you feel so inclined leave me a comment to let me know what you liked or what you didn't. I've still got tons of story ideas so I will see you all in the new year with some new tales. -Lyrisvox

 

 

 

Chapter 29: The Beginning and The End

 

 

Constantine stayed at the hospital for a little over a week before the combination of his improving condition and his surly attitude made the doctors more than happy to release him. Chas stayed with him the entire time he was hospitalized at Ravenscar. He'dbecome a favorite with the staff, often bringing treats for them and cajoling John into cooperating whenever he threatened to rip out his IV and make a break for it.

When John was discharged from the hospital, Midnight came to help Chas take him home, and stayed for take out Thai food and a rather laughable game of blackjack after they had gotten John all settled back in his apartment. Midnite left a little after nine and, without a word, Chas went to the linen closet and began making himself a bed on the couch.

“What are you doing?” John asked, watching him with avid curiosity.

“I’m going to need a place to sleep,” Chas replied without meeting John’s gaze.

“Wasn’t that why you made such a fuss about my bed being comfortable?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You are supposed to be recovering, not getting laid,” Chas snapped.

John laughed, holding his chest and grimacing, but unable to stop himself. Chas flushed from his forehead to his toes.

John spent the better part of the next two days trying to entice Chas into his bed, and Chas had to get downright frosty to get him to stop. He informed John he was here to nurse him back to health and that did not include the kind of “nursing” they did in the dirty movies John had hidden under his bed.

They slipped into a strange domesticity, which Chas found he enjoyed. He'd often wondered what it would be like to live with John, and even though this was only temporary he was pleased they fit easily together. The only strain came from the sexual tension which intensified with each day they spent in close quarters. One night while they were sitting on the couch watching a movie, John managed to get Chas to kiss him. It had started out chaste enough but soon heat spread over them like a wildfire, burning away everything but each other. Chas let out a needy whimper when John bit his lower lip and Constantine pulled him onto his lap. Chas spread his legs over John's hips, grinding against him. John grabbed the hem of his shirt and moved to take it off but then he stopped with an abrupt hiss. Chas gasped and scrambled off of him.

"Dammit John!" Chas swore, as furious with himself as he was with John. "You need time to heal."

John gave a resigned sigh. "Chas, I'm fine."

Chas scowled down at him. “You'd say you were fine with a knife buried six inches into your gut if you thought you might get some.

“Don't act all pure when your cock is just as hard as mine is.”

Chas puffed up like an angry cat and slid his hands down to cover the erection tenting his pants.

“Baby, come here, let me make you feel better,” John said in a voice designed to shred right through Chas's objections.

“I can't. John please, your recheck is less than two weeks away.”

John groaned in frustration and scrubbed his hands across his face. Then he stood up and Chas stepped away warily, lest he get caught.

“Fine, but you can't stop me from thinking about you while I jerk off.” John bent down and brushed his lips against Chas's cheek before retiring to his room.

The next morning Chas noted John had begun a countdown on the calendar in the kitchen, marking each day with a big X until the day of the recheck, which he had circled in red. Chas smiled into his coffee.

On the day of the recheck John spent the entire morning, including the cab ride to Ravenscar, grousing about his hatred of doctors and hospitals. They checked in and sat down in the waiting room. Chas absently flipped through a magazine until the nurse called John's name. Once Constantine disappeared behind the door Chas put the magazine down, his brain too scattered to focus on anything. It seemed like hours before John came back, and when he did he was curiously tight-lipped and Chas began to fear the worst.

John wanted to walk back to the apartment and the slow pace was torture as Chas waited for John to say something, anything, about what had happened at the appointment. He asked a few leading questions but Constantine didn't bite so they lapsed into silence. After a couple blocks John took his hand. Chas held on tight, a curious stinging in his eyes making him blink fast.

They got back to the apartment and John held the door for him. Chas rushed in and the door slammed behind him. He spun around and found John leaning against the door. Constantine's eyes ran up his body, leaving him flushed and tight. Chas swallowed hard.

“John, please,” he begged.

“What are you asking for?” John purred.

"Did the appointment go well? Is... everything okay?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” John wagged his finger. “You aren't getting off that easy, not after they way you've been acting. I want you to say it Chas.”

Chas supposed he deserved this. His hands trembled as he spoke. “Can we have sex?”

"Yes."

The heat in that single word was enough to melt Chas to the floor. For most of the time he'd known John, the man had been one seriously cool customer but now he found himself face to face with John's smoldering sexuality and it was almost more than he could handle. He wanted it all, wanted John to burn him where he stood, to erase even the smallest space between them.

"Thank God."

Constantine had Chas in his arms in seconds, hands tugging Chas's hair to bring their mouths together. His tongue was sweet as it plunged into Chas's mouth. Chas pressed up into the kiss, giving as good as he got and John let out a rough sound of approval. He broke the kiss, and with a wicked look spun Chas around till his chest was flush against the door.

"What are you doing?" Chas asked.

John held him against the door with a hand splayed in the middle of his back. He leaned forward, nuzzling along the back of Chas's neck.

“Show them to me.”

Chas shuddered then closed his eyes and brought his wings out, stretching them wide. He held his breath and waited.

“They're so beautiful, Chas.”

Chas's reply was a strangled moan when John ran his fingers over the curve of his wings. The nerves along his spine sizzled. The strangely erotic sensation stole his ability to think. He stood there, his forehead pressed against the wood, moaning and writhing with each sure stroke of John's fingers. His need spiraled out of control and the more John touched him the more unbearable the urge to be filled became. Between his legs his opening clenched and a hot rush of shame made him glad John couldn't see his bodies wanton reaction. John's erection pressed, hot against his ass cheek which did nothing to help. Chas wanted to be penetrated, stretched, made whole with John's cock.

He licked his lips."I want you inside me."

John went still at his words and he continued on in a rush.

"I need to feel you again."

John turned Chas around, dark eyes drinking in his very soul. Constantine undid his shirt, kissing Chas between each button. Chas smiled and divested himself of his own clothing, their lips meeting in a playful dance while they stripped. Once John was naked he reached into the drawer of the end table next to the door and pulled out a bottle of lube. Chas raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"It pays to be prepared," he said.

John squirted some of the clear fluid over his fingers and motioned for Chas to turn back towards the door. Chas obeyed, arching his back so his ass stood out invitingly. John placed soft kisses on the top of Chas's shoulders while his slid slick fingers down into the cleft of Chas's ass. The tight pucker shivered when his finger grazed it and he murmured filthy things into Chas's ear while he swirled his finger around his entrance. Chas groaned.

"Stop teasing me."

"When you say things like that you make it very hard for me to be gentle."

Chas was rewarded with the sharp thrust of a finger inside him. His breath caught in his chest. He pressed his hips back, beyond caring about anything but how good it felt. John didn't wait long before adding a second and then a third finger. Chas reached down, grabbing his own dick and stroking it in time with John's movements.

"It's enough already, just do it," Chas whined

John responded with a low sexy laugh. He removed his fingers and poured a generous amount of lube on his penis. He grabbed Chas's hips, positioning him before he spread Chas's cheeks and rubbed his dick against his twitching entrance.

"Is this what you want?"

Chas gave an incoherent sob, his whole body trembling while John's cock teased his entrance. Chas reached back and steadied John’s cock, pressing his hips down until the head slipped inside. They both cried out. John took his time, and rocked his hips until every last inch was inside Chas. The needy tension ebbed away once John was inside him, replaced with the luxuriousness of being one with the man he loved again. John ran his hands over Chas's back and sides and Chas grabbed one, pulling it to his mouth and placing a soft kiss in the center of John's palm. He pressed his hips back, inviting John to move inside him. John obliged, thrusting slow and deep. Chas moaned, pushing back to meet John each time. While the pleasure was undeniable, Chas wanted more.

"I want to look at you," he said.

John pulled out and they maneuvered till he was sitting with his back against the door, Chas seated astride him. Chas slid back down on John's cock and started moving but it was awkward until John grabbed his hips and helped guide him. He kissed John constantly, separating for a few seconds to suck in air before diving back in. Chas kept adjusting the angle, looking for the sweet spot and when he found it a jolt traveled through his whole body. He shut his eyes and proceeded to ride John hard, each thrust hitting his prostate until he was making so much noise he worried the entire building could hear him. John reached between them grabbing Chas's leaking prick. Chas gaze locked with John's and the love between them exploded, expanding through his whole body, making his throat tight and his eyes sting.

"I love you so much," Chas said.

"I love you too."

John took Chas's hand in his own, threading their fingers together. Chas held on as he fucked himself over the edge, crying out for John while hot jets of come splashed between them.

"Oh God," John grit out, pushing up hard as his own orgasm caught him, draining his pleasure into Chas's body.

They stayed connected until Chas's legs trembled with the strain. When he stood it was obvious a shower was going to be needed. John took him by the hand, and they made their way to the bathroom, leaving their clothes where they lay by the door. The shower led to more touching than was strictly necessary and John soaping him up lead to the both of them naked on the floor of John's bathroom, John laying flat on the floor with his head between Chas's legs while Chas crouched over him and gave as good as he got. They sucked each other to another white hot climax. The taste of John's come in his mouth made Chas dizzy. They cuddled up together afterward until John said,

"I think another shower is in order. Here, help me up."

Chas obliged and after another, much quicker, shower John looked at him and asked.

"Will you come to bed with me tonight?"

"Yes."

With little ceremony they fell into bed, snuggling together under the covers. John placed a soft kiss on his temple.

"Good night."

"Night."

 

 

#

 

John woke in the early morning hours before the sun had done more than lighten the sky from jet to silver. Awaking to find Chas asleep in his arms had been more emotional than he anticipated and he snuggled close, trying to identify the strange energy which had wakened him. Sleeping next to Chas had been wonderful. He had a penchant for cuddling and they had spent the night wrapped up in each other. Chas's soft breaths in the dark, his scent on John's sheets, it was something he wanted to wake up to every morning and the realization shocked him. The thought of waking up in bed and not having Chas next to him made his throat tighten. He spooned around the angel, kissing along the back of his neck. Chas stirred.

"Again?" Chas asked in an incredulous voice. He brought his hand up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes until he realized the sun wasn't even up yet. "John, it's too early."

"I want to talk to you about something," John said.

"Right now?"

"It's pretty important."

Chas rolled over, blinking up into John's face in the dim light.

"Is everything okay?" Chas asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine," John replied, propping himself up on one elbow. He grabbed one of Chas's hands and brought it to his lips.

John took a deep breath. "Chas, how would you feel about moving in with me?"

Chas's mouth popped open and he stared at John like he'd grown a second head. He snatched the pillow from behind his head and tossed it in John's face.

"John, be serious!" he scolded. Chas sat up and his face creased into deep lines of worry. A bubble of anxiety came to the surface in John’s gut. Chas had said he was staying with John to babysit and make sure John's habit of insubordination against medical orders didn't endanger his recovery. It had started out as a temporary arrangement, but after more than two months of having Chas next to him John didn't want to take a step back.

"I am being serious,” he said. “I've enjoyed having you here, it feels right to me in a way I never expected." John gave his eyebrows a roguish waggle. "I'm willing to give you full control of the remote if that sweetens the deal."

Chas crumpled the comforter in his hands. "Don't you think you're being a bit hasty? I mean, we haven't even been on a real date yet so living together permanently is a rather big leap."

"It's true we haven't been together for long and there is still a lot to work out, but I think it's been going well. Don't you?"

"Yes, but...” Chas started, before John cut him off.

"Besides, if you can stand being my apprentice, then being my live-in boyfriend will be a walk in the park. The perks are better." He gave Chas a quick kiss to demonstrate said perks, but when he pulled back Chas's brow was still drawn down over his eyes.

"Tell me what you're worried about."

"What if it's too much too soon? John I just got you, I'm afraid if we push too hard we'll fall apart."

"You think being together will destroy us when being apart never did?”

Chas didn't answer, so John continued.

“If we try it and it doesn't work we can take a step back, it doesn't mean our relationship has to end. I want you here with me Chas. I want to make breakfast with you every morning and take you to our bed every night. Would that make you happy?"

Rosy dawn light spread over the side of Chas's face as he considered John. Constantine did his best to be still and wait. Finally a bright smile spread over Chas's mouth.

"Yes. It would make me happy."

"Really?" John wanted to pounce on Chas and smother him with kisses but he held back for the moment.

"I can't think of anything that would make me happier."

John rolled on top of him and they wrestled in the covers laughing and peppering each other with kisses.

John had never seen anything more beautiful than Chas with the dawn light brightening him more with each second. His hair tousled, his eyes sparkling, his laughter filling the room while they rolled around in their bed.

They had a lot in front of them. John still faced charges for his conduct with the police, though Angela was working to smooth the feathers he'd ruffled.

Chas had met with Uriel the other night and while the elder still maintained Chas had erred and should face censure, he conceded the world was much better off without Asmodeus. Despite the road before them John had no anxiety. They would see it through together. He kissed Chas again. No one in this great universe of souls could fit him the way this man did.

 

 

 

 

Fin


End file.
